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JOURNAL 

AND 

CORRESPONDPJNCE 


Miss  ADAMS, 

DAUGHTER   OF   JOHN    ADAMS, 


of  t&e  Sanfteti  States. 


WRITTEN  IN  FKANCE  AND  ENGLAND,  IN  1785. 


EDITED     BY    HER     DAUGHTER. 


NEW-YORK  &  LONDON: 

WILEY    AND   PUTNAM, 
1841. 


E  503. 


v.  > 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1841,  by 

I.    P.    DE    WlNDT, 

Fn   the  Clerk's   Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States,  for   the 
Southern  District  of  New- York. 


NEW- YORK : 

Hopkins  &  Jennings,  Printers, 
lllFulton-stieet. 


TO 

JOHN    aUINCY   ADAMS, 

EX-PRESIDENT  OF  THE  UNITED  STATES. 

Around  their  memory,  dear  to  us  all, 

Doth  cling  remembrances 

Sacred  ;  all  powerful, 

And  lasting  as  the  soul's  immortality. 


804110 


PREFACE. 


THE  following  Journal,  from  which  these  ex 
tracts  are  taken,  was  written  at  the  same  period 
with  the  letters  of  Mrs.  Adams,  (lately  published,) 
by  her  only  daughter,  principally  previous  to  her 
marriage. 

A  few  letters  are  added,  from  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Adams  to  their  grandaughter. 

The  Editor  being  desirous  to  preserve  the 
Journal  and  Letters  for  her  children,  still  more 
so,  that  they  should  understand  the  extent  and 
strength  of  that  affection  with  which  their  mother 
was  honoured  by  the  writers,  presents  them  with 
a  copy  in  print. 

"This  is  the  prerogative  of  the  noblest  natures 
that  their  departure  to  higher  regions  exercises 
a  no  less  blessed  influence  than  did  their  abode 
on  earth ;  that  they  lighten  us  from  above,  like 
stars  by  which  to  steer  our  course,  often  inter 
rupted  by  storms ;  that  those  to  whom  we  turned 
in  life  as  the  beneficent,  the  helpful,  now  attract 
our  longing,  aspiring  glance,  as  the  perfected,  the 
blessed." 

For  the  sketch  of  the  landscape,  the  Editor  is 
indebted  to  Miss  Gtuincy  of  Cambridge,  Mass. 

C.  A.  de  W. 
Cedar  Grove,  JV.  Y.,  July,  1841. 


CONTENTS. 


Page. 

Introductory  Remarks, vii 

Introductory  Letter, 3 

Journal, 7 

Lines  addressed  to  a  Portrait, 97 

Letter  from  Mr.  J.  Q.  Adams, 89 

Memoir  of  W.  S.  Smith, 99 

Twenty-four  letters  from  Col.  to  Mrs.  Smith,        .        .  125 

Letters  from  John  Adams  to  his  daughter,        .        .  202 

Letters  from  Mrs.  Adams  to  her  grandaughter,      .        .  209 

Letters  from  John  Adams  to  his  grandaughter,  .        .  239 

Letter  from  Judge  Vanderkemp  to  Mrs.  de  Windt,       .  243 

Letter  from  John  Adams  to  his  grandaughter,  .        .  245 


INTRODUCTORY  REMARKS. 


ABIGAIL  ADAMS,  the  oldest  child  and  only  surviving  daugh 
ter  of  John  Adams,  was  born  at  Braintree,  in  Massachusetts, 
14th  July,  1765;  she  was  carried  to  church  in  a  chaise, 
and  baptized  the  day  she  was  born,  according  to  the  custom  of 
those  times. 

In  the  early  part  of  her  life  she  shared  the  domestic  duties 
and  cheered  the  retirement  of  her  mother,  during  the  years 
of  absence  which  the  public  cares  of  her  father  enforced 
upon  him.  He  expressed  to  the  editor,  at  the  age  of  90, 
while  recalling  and  reflecting  upon  the  events  of  the  past,  in 
these  words,  his  painful  recollection  of  the  separations  he 
had  been  called  upon  to  endure  :  "  At  this  time  it  seems  to 
me  to  have  been  wicked  to  have  left  such  a  wife  and  such  a 
family  as  I  did,  but  it  was  done  in  the  service  of  my  country." 

The  daughter  was  cherished  and  beloved  by  an  intimate 
circle  of  youthful  friends.  Among  them  an  early  use  of  the 
pen,  and  the  pleasures  of  epistolary  intercourse  were  culti 
vated  ;  the  young  persons  being  in  the  habit  of  preparing 
their  letters  during  the  week,  taking  them  to  church  on  Sun 
day,  and  exchanging  them.  Two  of  the  most  intimate  and 
valued  friends  of  Miss  Adams  were  the  daughter  of  the  Rev. 
Jonathan  Mayhew,  afterwards  married  to  Mr.  Waimvright, 
and  Miss  Elizabeth  Quincy,  afterwards  Mrs.  Guild.  These 
attachments  continued  uninterrupted,  and  were  a  source  of 
much  happiness  throughout  their  lives. 


Vlll  INTRODUCTORY  REMARKS. 

At  the  age  of  eighteen  Miss  Adams  accompanied  her  moth 
er  to  Europe  — she  had  changed,  in  the  years  that  had  passed, 
since  her  father  had  left  her  in  America.  In  the  journal  of  this 
date  she  writes  thus  :  "  London,  Aug.  7th,  1784.  At  12,  re 
turned  to  our  own  apartments ;  when  I  entered,  I  saw  upon  the 
table  a  hat  with  two  books  in  it ;  every  thing  around  appeared 
altered,  without  my  knowing  in  what  particular.  I  went  into 
my  own  room,  the  things  were  moved ;  I  looked  around  — 
•  Has  mamma  received  letters,  that  have  determined  her  de 
parture  ]  —  When  does  she  go  T— Why  are  these  things 
moved  V  All  in  a  breath  to  Esther.  '  No,  ma'm,  she  has  re- 
cieved  no  letter,  but  goes  to-morrow  morning.'  *  Why  is 
all  this  appearance  of  strangeness?  —  Whose  hat  is  that  in 
the  other  room  1  —  Whose  trunk  is  this  ]  —  Whose  sword 
and  cane  1  —  It  is  my  father's,'  said  I.  « Where  is  he  V  'In 
the  room  above.'  Up  I  flew,  and  to  his  chamber,  where  he 
was  lying  down,  he  raised  himself  upon  my  knocking  softly  at 
the  door,  and  received  me  with  all  the  tenderness  of  an  af 
fectionate  parent  after  so  long  an  absence.  Sure  I  am,  I 
never  felt  more  agitation  of  spirits  in  my  life  ;  it  will  not  do 
to  describe." 

The  next  day  commenced  the  journey  to  Paris,  with  which 
the  journal  in  the  present  volume  opens. 

At  a  later  period,  Aug.  1785,  the  journal  states  —  "  Friday, 
26th.  Papa  having  invited  Count  Sarsefield  to  dine  with  him 
to-day,  we  were  obliged  to  refuse  an  invitation  from  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Smith,  at  Clapham  ;  the  Count  came,  and  was  as  usual 
in  spirits,  and  good  company.  Mr.  Bartlemmy,  the  French 
Charge  d*  Affaires  was  invited,  and  came  ;  he  seemed  to  be 
well  enough  in  mind,  manners,  and  appearance,  civil,  not 
gallant,  sociable,  not  talkative,  modest,  not  forward  ;  he  is 
passing  well.  Two  other  gentlemen  dined  with  us ;  they 
were  young  men  ;  and  nothing  passed  in  four  hours  to  be 
related  here." 


INTRODUCTORY   REMARKS.  IX 

"  Saturday  27th.  A  fine  morning.  Eugenic  came  to 
breakfast.  Mamma  desired  me  to  be  dressed  ;  she  was 
going  out  to  make  some  visits ;  I  obeyed.  I  seldom  resist 
commands,  however  my  will  may  be  for  it.  We  went  out  at 
12  ;  the  coachman  was  ordered  to  go  to  Hackney ;  we  were 
to  visit  Mrs.  J .  No,  it  is  not  pride  —  it  is  not  vanity 

—  'tis  no  unworthy  principle  which  would  prevent  me,  had 
I  a  will  to  follow,  from  making  such  visits,  but  I  would  make 
no  acquaintance  for  which  I  had  not  some  good  reason ;  1 
do  not  love  that  kind  of  intercourse  where  no  one  affection  of 
the  heart  has  any  share  ;  I  would  treat  every  one  with  civility 

—  lay  myself  under  as  few  obligations  as  possible,  to  those 
whom  1  could  rank  as  friends  —  I  would  always  act  from 
the  heart ;  every  attention  to  such  1  should  esteem  myself 
gratified  in  paying ;  but  the  unmeaning  intercourse  of  a  great 
portion  of  mankind,  I  must  acknowledge,  I  have  but  little 
taste  for  ;  perhaps  1  am  wrong  —  it  is  only  an  opinion  —  it 
may  be  founded  upon  wrong  principles ;  I  am  open  to  con 
viction  ;  and  whenever  my  sentiments  change,  I  shall  not  be 
adverse  to  acknowledge  it.    When  we  came  into  town,  we 

left  cards  at  the  Baroness ,  to  return  a  visit  made  us 

in  the  same  way,  and  called  upon  my  Lady  Effingham,  but 
she  was  not  at  home  ;  returned  home,  dined  alone ;  read 
Shakspeare  after  dinner.     Papa  purchased  his  works  this 
morning,  upon  my  saying  I  had  never  read  them.    I  discover 
a  thousand  traits  of  softness,  delicacy,  and  sensibility  in  this 
excellent  man's  character.    I  was  once  taught  to  fear  his 
virtues ;  happy  am  I  that  I  find  them  rather  to  love,  grown 
up  into  life  unknown  to  him,  and  ignorant  of  him.  I  had  been 
taught  to  think  him  severe,  and  as  he  would  demand  my  obe 
dience,  I  found  him  far  otherwise  ;  he  never  demanded  of  me 
even  an  acquiescence  to  his  wishes,  but  left  me  to  follow  my 
own,  in  the  most  important  concerns  of  life.    How  amiable  — 
how  respectable  —  how  worthy  of  every  token  of  my  atten- 


X  INTRODUCTORY  REMARKS. 

tion,  has  this  conduct  rendered  a  parent — a  father — to  whom 
we  feel  due  even  a  resignation  of  our  opinions  !  How  many 
are  there  who  usurp  the  power  Nature  has  given  them  a 
right  to  use,  and  who  act  rather  as  tyrants  over  their  families 
than  as  parents  of  their  children  ;  how  much  is  the  want  of 
this  gentleness,  delicacy,  and  sensibility  observed  in  that 
sex,  whose  worth  and  amiability  of  character  depends  upon 
the  possession  of  it.  How  many  ladies,  within  my  knowledge, 
who  do  not  possess  one  iota  of  either ;  but,  adieu  to  the  sub 
ject." 

"  To-day,  agreeably  to  invitation,  we  went  to  dine  with 
Dr.  Jebb  ;  our  company  was  not  large,  and  no  ladies  but 
mamma  and  myself.  Had  I  never  seen  Mrs.  Jebb,  I  believe 
I  should  have  said  upon  entering  the  door,  the  lady  of  this 
house  is  a  politicianess,  or  something  else — there  was  an  air 
through  the  whole  that  I  thought  discovered  it.  The  com 
pany  were  all  there  when  we  went.  Dr.  Brokelsly,  a  moderate 
Englishman,  is  said  to  be  a  sensible  man,  great  in  his  pro 
fession,  and  learned.  A  Mr.  Ashley,  a  violent,  prejudiced 
Englishman,  no  enemy  to  America  I  should  suppose,  but 
entirely  ignorant  of  the  arrangements  there  during  the  late 
war,  as  indeed  every  person  here  seems  to  be  ;  whether  it 
has  been  the  policy  of  people  in  power  to  preserve  this  ignor 
ance  I  do  not  know,  but  they  all  attribute  the  want  of  suc 
cess  to  their  generals.  If  Sir  William  Howe  had  done  so 
and  so,  you  would  never  have  gained  your  independence.  I 
never  pretend  to  understand  politics,  but  I  cannot  but  smile 
to  hear  these  people  talk ;  it  appears  to  me  they  judge  with 
out  foundation,  and  give  their  opinions  through  ignorance. 
This  gentleman  was  also  a  most  violent  enemy  to  the  French  ; 
he  could  bear  to  see  America  rising,  but  he  could  not  sub 
mit  to  see  that  nation  at  peace  ;  he  was  sometimes  so  violent 
that  I  did  not  know  where  it  would  end.  Papa  endeavoured 
to  be  silent,  but  sometimes  he  would  get  warmed,  and  who 


INTRODUCTORY  REMARKS.  XI 

could  avoid  it,  to  hear  so  much  ignorance  and  error  asserted 
as  truth?" 

1785.  "  The  thread  has  broke,  and  I  have  to  begin  again  ; 
it  is  in  vain  attempting  to  join  it  where  I  last  left  it,  for  I  find 
it  impossible.  Some  events  have  taken  place  respecting 
myself,  in  which,  perhaps,  my  future  happiness  may  be  in 
terested;  I  have  one  consolation,  the  perfect  rectitude  of  my 
intentions.  To  that  Being,  under  whose  guidance  I  would 
fain  believe  all  our  actions  to  be,  I  must  submit,  and  leave 
the  events ;  Heaven  grant  they  may  prove  propitious  to  my 
happiness  and  peace." 

At  this  period  Miss  Adams  married  Colonel  Smith,  who 
was  the  Secretary  to  the  American  Legation,  at  London. 
Here  we  must  refer  again  to  the  journal.  "June,  1787. 
The  afternoon  being  very  fine,  mamma  and  myself  rode  to 
Kensington  Gardens,  and  took  a  long  walk  ;  it  was  more  like 
an  American  day  than  any  I  recollect  in  this  country ;  the 
presence  of  my  friend  was  only  wanting  to  have  rendered  it 
perfectly  pleasing ;  his  society  has  enlivened  every  scene  for 
the  last  twelve  months  ;  cheerfulness  and  good  humour  he  has 
ever  promoted,  and  it  is  always  accompanied  with  strict  pro 
priety,  delicacy,  and  purity  of  actions  and  manners  ;  it  is,  in 
short,  all  that  my  fondest  wishes  could  paint,  as  lovely  and 
engaging ;  the  more  I  reflect  upon  it  the  more  I  am  satis 
fied,  and  the  more  I  am  induced  to  regret  this  temporary 
separation,  which  is  the  first,  and  from  my  heart  I  hope  it 
may  be  the  last  I  shall  ever  have  to  regret." 

After  returning  and  residing  a  few  years  in  America,  they 
revisited  Europe  ;  upon  their  return,  passed  some  years  in 
the  city  of  New- York. 

Mrs.  Smith  died  at  Quincy,  14th  August,  1813,  at  the  age 
of  48.  She  expressed  her  gratitude  that  she  had  been  per 
mitted  to  close  her  days  in  the  mansion  of  her  father,  sur 
rounded  by  her  venerable  parents,  her  husband,  children,  and 
dearest  relatives. 


Xii  INTRODUCTORY   REMARKS. 

"  She  possessed  a  mind  firm,  cultivated,  and  delicate ;  a 
temper  gentle  and  sweet;  a  spirit  composed  in  difficulty,  pa 
tient  in  suffering,  humble  in  prosperity,  cheerful  in  adversity ; 
a  demeanour  chastened  and  regulated  by  clear  perceptions  of 
duly  and  a  high  sense  of  propriety.  As  a  child,  exemplary  for 
filial  reverence ;  as  a  wife,  for  conjugal  tenderness ;  as  a  moth 
er,  for  parental  affection.  Forgetful  of  herself,  and  studious  of 
the  happiness  of  others,  it  was  the  effort  of  her  being  to 
please  and  to  support,  to  comfort  and  to  bless.  Her  death, 
in  unison  with  such  a  life,  was  full  of  resignation  and  hope."* 

Among  various  consolatory  letters  addressed  to  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Adams  upon  the  death  of  their  daughter,  the  following 
extract  comprises  all  that  need  be  said. 

"  If  such  are  my  feelings  for  a  child  cut  off  before  the 
day-star  of  intelligence  could  have  arisen  to  announce  the 
dawn  of  reason  in  her  soul,  what  must  be  those  of  a  mother 
for  one,  in  whom  the  mind  was  at  its  highest  noon,  clear  as 
the  day,  and  unsullied  as  the  light  of  heaven  1" 


;<Her  days  were  short,  and  checkered  o'er 
With  joy  and  sorrow's  mingled  store, 

And  fortune's  treacherous  game  — 
But  never  since  Creation's  hour, 
Sent  forth  from  Heaven's  almighty  power, 

A  purer  spirit  came  !"f 


*  From  an  obituary  notice  by  President  Quincy. 
t  Extract  from  a  letter  of  Mr.  J.  Q.  Adams. 


JOURNAL  AND  LETTERS. 


INTRODUCTORY  LETTER. 


The  Hague,  17  July,  1784. 
MY  DEAR  DAUGHTEB: 

WITH  the  tenderest  emotions  of  a  father's  heart, 
I  congratulate  you  on  your  agreeable  voyage,  and 
happy  arrival ;  and  hope  that  your  journeys  in 
Europe,  and  your  returning  voyage  to  your  own 
country,  will  be  equally  prosperous. 

At  your  age,  travels  are  pleasing  and  instruc 
tive.  But  that  you  may  be  able  to  derive  the  full 
benefit  from  them,  let  me  recommend  to  you  to 
keep  a  journal. 

I  have  never  had  influence  enough  with  your 
brother  to  prevail  upon  him  to  attend  to  this  exer 
cise,  as  pleasant  as  it  is  useful.  But  the  punish 
ment  of  this  negligence  is  certain ;  if  he  lives 
sixty  years,  he  will  spend  them  all  in  continual 
repentance,  and  self-reproaches.  A  regular  jour 
nal  of  his  travels  would  be  very  valuable. 


4  INTRODUCTORY  LETTER. 

I  cannot  reproach  myself,  because  my  eyes 
have  made  it  impracticable.  With  the  utmost 
difficulty  have  I  performed  the  writing,  which 
my  public  duty  required  of  me  :  and  I  may  add, 
that  my  head  and  heart  have  been  so  occupied 
with  necessary  business,  that  objects  of  curiosity, 
and  even  the  -fine  arts,  had  few  attractions  for 
'une.  ', /  ".  :•:  •  ; 

Your  case  and4  -that  of  your  brother  are  very 
:  &J9pflBiik:  ..Ju»*  travel  ling  with  me,  through  the 
butch  and  Austrian  Low  Countries  to  France, 
you  will  have  a  great  opportunity. 

In  London  you  see  one  of  those  enormous 
masses  of  human  nature,  which  exhibit  to  view 
its  utmost  extremes  of  grandeur  and  littleness,  of 
virtues  and  vices,  of  wisdom  and  folly.  In  Paris 
you  will  see  another ;  and  all  along  between 
them,  are  countries  and  cities  which  will  deserve 
your  attention. 

I  need  not  say  to  you,  that  the  end  of  travel,  as 
well  as  study,  is  not  the  simple  gratification  of 
curiosity,  or  to  enable  one  to  shine  in  conversa 
tion,  but  to  make  us  wiser  and  better. 

The  British  Museum,  Sir  Ashton  Lever's 
Museum,  Wedgwood's  Manufactory  of  Earthen 
Ware,  Parker's  Manufactory  of  Glass,  I  saw  with 
great  pleasure.  You  cannot  see  Mrs.  Siddons,  as 
she  is  absent.  Westminster  Abbey,  and  St.  Paul's 
Church  you  should  see. 


INTRODUCTORY  LETTER.  5 

But  I  presume  you  will  not  be  long  in  England 
after  your  brother's  arrival. 

Hasten,  my  dear  girl,  as  much  as  you  can  with 
prudence,  to  your  affectionate  father, 

JOHN  ADAMS. 
Miss  A.  ADAMS, 

London. 


1* 


JOURNAL. 


London,  Adelphi  Hotel,  1784. 

WE  are  impatiently  awaiting  the  arrival  of  let 
ters  to  determine  our  course,  whether  to  France 
or  the  Hague. 

August  8th.  After  two  hour's  preparation,  papa, 
mamma,  myself  and  brother,  in  our  own  car 
riage,  H.  and  B.  our  two  servants,  sat  out  from 
the  Adelphi  Hotel,  so  wretchedly  equipped  with 
horses,  that  they  could  carry  us  no  farther  than 
Westminster  bridge;  here  they  refused  to  go,  and 
the  resolution  of  the  post-boys  was  exerted  to  no 
purpose ;  they  were  obliged  to  obtain  others :  at 
Deal  we  made  our  last  change  of  horses,  turned 
into  the  road  to  Dover  where  we  arrived  at  2 
o'clock.  The  road  from  Canterbury  to  Dover  is 
very  mountainous  and  the  poorest  I  have  seen  in 
the  country ;  the  appearance  of  cultivation  is 
much  the  same  as  in  other  spots  ;  there  is  a  rich 
ness  and  elegance  in  the  landscape  that  is  very 


8  JOURNAL. 

beautiful.  At  3  we  went  on  board  the  boat  for 
Deal;  we  landed  at  6  the  next  morning — we  had 
some  servants  from  every  public  house,  or  every 
master  with  offers  of  accommodation.  We  came 
to  Monsieur  Destaing's  Hotel,  the  very  place  made 
famous  by  Yorick ;  in  this  yard  he  wrote  his  pre 
face  to  his  journey,  and  perhaps  in  one  of  these 

disobligeants,  he  met  Madame  De ,  and  here 

is  the  very  Monk,  that  gave  his  benediction  to 
our  writer,  and  who  has  just  passed  my  window  to 
present  himself  to  papa.  I  do  not  think  he  is 
quite  so  respectable  a  figure,  as  the  one  that  ac 
costed  Yorick.  At  12  we  dined  ;  we  had  a  va 
riety,  but  not  in  a  style  so  agreeable  to  me  as  the 
English.  At  two,  we  set  off  from  Monsieur  Des 
taing's  Hotel,  on  a  journey  of  two  hundred  miles. 
The  laws  of  this  country  are  such  as  oblige  every 
person  who  travels  in  a  coach,  to  make  use  of  six 
horses.  We  were  equipped  with  six  horses  for 
our  carriage,  and  a  cabriolet  with  three  horses, 
for  our  two  servants.  The  harness  is  not  supe 
rior  in  any  respect,  to  what  we  use  in  America  for 
our  carts  and  ploughs  ;  however,  it  is  such  as 
every  person  travels  with,  and  there  is  no  better. 
I  have  not  learnt  the  why  and  the  wherefore,  that 
we  travel  in  this  way.  and  exchange  horses  at 
every  post,  which  is  a  distance  of  six  miles,  or 
sometimes  a  post  and  a  half,  or  two  post  at  a  time. 
On  Tuesday  we  travelled  four  posts  after  dinner, 


JOURNAL.  9 

and  lodged  at  Boulogne,  a  small  village,  the  Inn 
kept  by  an  English  family.  The  house  was  not  as 
much  Anglaise  as  I  could  have  wished.  There  is 
certainly  a  great  difference  in  favour  of  Eng 
land  ;  the  country  is  by  no  means  equal  to  it ;  the 
soil  does  not  appear  so  rich  and  luxuriant,  or  so  well 
cultivated  ;  the  villages  are  the  most  wretched  of 
all  the  habitations  of  man  ;  it  is  not  one  time  in 
ten  that  I  have  seen  a  glass  window,  nothing  but 
wood.  We  dined  in  our  carriage  ;  mamma  and 
myself  were  not  out  of  it  from  six  in  the  morn 
ing,  until  four  in  the  afternoon. 

The  country  is  much  varied  ;  in  some  places 
you  see  a  great  appearance  of  cultivation  and  im 
provement,  in  others  you  have  a  fine  prospect  of 
the  country  around,  and  some  very  fine  scenes 
of  natural  beauty ;  in  others,  it  appears  like  a  bar 
ren  uncultivated  spot.  There  is  the  appearance 
of  more  industry  here  than  in  England,  by  the 
flocks  of  men,  women  and  children  that  are  out 
in  the  fields  at  their  labours ;  whole  families, 
whole  towns,  I  should  suppose  by  their  numbers, 
some  reaping  and  gathering  in  the  fruits  of  the 
year,  while  others  were  preparing  the  ground, 
sowing  the  seed  for  a  future  crop.  The  country 
bears  to-day  a  more  pleasing  aspect  than  yester 
day  ;  the  villages  are  by  no  means  superior,  such 
places  I  never  saw  before,  or  the  like  unto  them. 
The  streets  are  very  narrow  and  dirty,  the  houses 


10  JOURNAL. 

low  and  heavy  ;  the  outside  seems  to  be  of  a  kind 
of  clay,  and  the  roofs  are  covered  with  thatch  ;  it 
has  a  heavy  appearance.  The  difference  is  not 
more  striking  in  any  other  object,  than  in  the 
countenances  of  the  people.  The  English  seem 
formed  for  some  exertion  in  almost  any  way  we 
should  choose  ;  but  these  people  do  not  appear 
sensible  to  any  passions  or  affections  whatever. 
The  difference  is  striking  in  the  postillions.  The 
English  have  a  sprightliness  and  alertness  suitable 
to  the  employment ;  but  in  these,  there  is  a  heavi 
ness,  dirtiness,  and  no  elasticity.  We  passed 
through  Montrieul ;  this  place  is  made  famous  to 
every  one  who  has  read  Yorick's  Journey.  I  regret 
that  I  have  it  not  with  me  —  I  should  read  it  with 
more  pleasure  now  than  ever  before,  as  we  are  to 
pass  through  every  place  which  he  describes. 
Some  of  the  villages  are  superior  to  others,  but  all 
are  very  miserable. 

To-day  we  have  been  obliged  to  travel  fourteen 
posts,  eighty-seven  miles,  in  order  to  arrive  at  a 
place  where  we  could  be  accommodated  with  lodg 
ing  ;  it  was  9  o'clock  before  we  stopped  for  the  night, 
which  was  at  Amiens.  The  laws  of  this  nation 
are  so  severe  as  to  oblige  every  one  who  enters  it 
to  follow  their  customs  in  every  thing,  particularly 
in  dress,  or  they  render  themselves  ridiculous. 
For  this  reason,  every  kind  of  article  which  they 
manufacture  themselves,  is  prohibited  from  enter- 


JOURNAL.  11 

ing  the  kingdom  without  paying  a  duty.  To 
prevent  this  these  are  custom-house  officers  almost 
at  every  town,  who  demand  a  search  of  your 
baggage,  although  it  consist  only  of  your  own 
private  clothes.  But  it  is  very  seldom  that  they 
will  not  be  satisfied  with  half  a  crown,  instead  of 
being  a  farther  trouble  to  you.  Whether  the 
duties  of  their  office  are  performed  by  this  means, 
I  do  not  know ;  but  it  is  more  agreeable  to  every 
one,  than  to  submit  to  the  inconvenience  of  the 
law.  We  have  been  stopped  several  times,  but 
always  found  them  ready  to  be  bought. 

At  Chantilla,  twenty-seven  miles  from  Paris, 
we  visited  the  seat  of  the  Prince  ofConde.  First, 
to  the  kennel  of  dogs  whicri  the  Prince  keeps  for 
hunting  —  there  are  two  hundred  or  more. 
Could  I  have  borne  to  look  at  them,  it  would  not 
have  been  an  agreeable  sight;  but  the  effluvia 
was  such  as  rendered  it  very  disagreeable  to  be 
near  the  apartment. 

We  went  next  to  see  the  stables,  which  were  in 
the  same  building.  This  was  a  long  range, 
where  there  were  more  than  two  hundred  horses  ; 
an  hundred  on  each  side,  with  their  names  over 
each  manger.  We  walked  through  the  stable 
from  one  door  to  the  other ;  one  of  the  grooms 
cams  up  to  mamma  and  myself  with  a  little  stick 
in  his  hand,  and  presented  to  each  one  ;  upon 
which  papa  gave  him  a  crown.  I  should  have 


12  JOURNAL. 

thought  it  very  strange  ;  but  at  breakfast  papa  told 
us  that  he  had  been  accosted  in  the  same  way 
from  having  his  gloves  on  and  no  cane  in  his 
hand.  It  is  a  custom,  I  suppose,  to  request  your 
remembrance  —  a  point  I  find  that  no  one  in  Eu 
rope  is  fearful  of  asking.  I  am  told  that  the 
Prince  sometimes  sups  with  his  horses,  and  pas 
ses  two  or  three  hours  with  his  dogs ;  rather  an 
uncivilized  taste  I  think. 

We  were  shown  next  the  theatre,  in  which  he 
acts  himself  for  the  entertainment  of  his  friends 
and  family ;  he  has  a  daughter  who  plays  like 
wise.  As  it  belongs  to  him,  and  he  has  the  pow 
er  of  regulating  it,  I  do  not  think  it  amiss  ;  it  is  an 
elegant  building  ;  I  saw  but  little  of  the  scenery, 
it  did  not  appear  to  me  equal  to  the  English. 
He  resides  at  this  castle  from  November  to  Janu 
ary  ;  any  strangers  who  are  in  town  he  invites  to 
his  plays.  We  saw  the  dressing-room  of  the 
Princess,  his  daughter,  and  some  other  apart 
ments  ;  then  we  went  to  the  armoury,  which  was 
like  that  in  the  tower,  but  so  very  inferior,  it  scarce 
deserves  remark.  Next,  to  the  gardens — about  20 
acres  —  there  is  a  great  variety  here  ;  a  canal  full 
of  fish,  the  water  supplied  by  a  river.  Here  were 
groves  and  arbours,  walks  and  windings,  woods 
and  vales,  banks  and  rivers  ;  fountains  playing,  arid 
statues,  flowers,  and  shrubs.  Here  was  the  car 
of  Venus  drawn  by  doves ;  the  statue  of  Cupid, 


JOURNAL.  13 

with  a  motto  in  French,  representing  the  pursuit 
of  love  ineffectual.  At  the  end  of  one  of  the 
gardens,  was  thePavillion  of  Venus,  a  room  eight 
feet  square ;  the  furniture  was  of  chintz,  chairs, 
and  settee,  and  curtains.  The  floors  were  like  all 
the  floors  in  this  country.  Excepting  in  the  floors, 
there  was  an  air  of  elegance  in  all  the  buildings, 
that  I  have  not  seen  even  here  in  Paris.  There 
were  four  fountains  in  the  room ;  at  the  end,  a 
door  opened  into  a  small  gallery,  which  was  over 
the  canal.  There  were  a  number  of  paintings,  but 
they  were  not  in  a  style  that  pleased  me.  We  next 
visited  the  English  garden,  as  it  is  called  ;  this 
consists  of  islands  and  groves,  grottoes  and  bow 
ers  ;  but  I  could  not  see  any  material  difference. 
In  one  part  there  was  a  representation  of  a  cot 
tage,  and  every  thing  in  unison  around.  There 
was  a  mill  with  a  plough,  and  every  utensil  for  a 
farmer  ;  one  apartment,  in  which  there  was  every 
thing  for  a  kitchen  ;  all  perfectly  neat.  In  another 
little  apartment  was  a  library.  The  next  build 
ing,  they  told  us,  was  the  barn  ;  it  had  the  ap 
pearance,  on  the  outside,  of  a  little  dirty  place, 
with  old  windows  and  little  doors,  with  every  ap 
pearance  of  rustic  simplicity — when,  to  our  sur 
prise,  we  were  shown  into  an  elegant  apartment, 
with  pictures  and  paintings  ;  the  furniture  of  pink 
silk,  trimmed  with  a  deep,  rich  silver  fringe  and 
tassels ;  in  the  centre  was  a  table  with  a  set  of 
2 


14  JOURNAL. 

Sevres  China  —  white,  with  a  gilt  edge.  We  were 
shown,  also,  some  buildings  in  the  Chinese  style. 
The  whole  was  exceedingly  beautiful  ;  but  as  we 
ever  draw  degrees  of  comparison  between  what  we 
now  see,  and  what  we  have  seen,  I  could  not  but 
give  the  preference  to  Pope's  garden  at  Twicken 
ham,  over  every  thing  I  have  yet  examined. 

We  have  taken  a  house  at  Auteuil,  near  Paris, 
very  large  and  very  inconvenient — about  fifty 
little  apartments,  so  small,  most  of  them,  as  to  be 
inconvenient  for  lodging.  There  is  a  large  room 
to  receive  company  in,  and  a  dining-room  ;  all 
the  bed-rooms  are  above  stairs.  There  is  a  spa 
cious  garden. 

15th.  This  day,  by  invitation,  we  dined  with 
Mr.  Barclay,  in  a  friendly  way,  without  form  qr 
ceremony.  Mr.  Jefferson  and  daughter  dined 
with  us,  and  two  gentlemen  who  were  not  to  be 
known.  The  dinner  was  in  the  French  style ; 
there  is  no  such  thing  here  as  preserving  our 
taste  in  any  thing ;  we  must  all  sacrifice  to  cus 
tom  and  fashion.  I  will  not  believe  it  possible  to 
do  otherwise ;  for  my  papa,  with  his  firmness  arid 
resolution,  is  a  perfect  convert  to  the  mode  in 
every  thing,  at  least  of  dress  and  appearance.  Mrs. 
B.  is  a  fine  woman  ;  the  more  I  see  of  her,  the 
greater  is  my  approbation  of  her.  She  has  a  firm 
hold  of  my  heart,  from  her  kindness  and  attention 
to  my  father,  when  he  was  sick  of  the  fever  last 


JOURNAL.  15 

fall ;  I  shall  ever  feel  a  grateful  remembrance  of 
her  goodness. 

16th.  Papa's  friends,  the  three  abbes,  came 
to  pay  their  respects  to  us.  They  insisted  upon 
it,  that  I  should  talk  French  with  them  ;  and  I 
am  inclined  to  believe  that  I  should  learn  more 
French  from  their  great  solicitude  to  converse, 
than  in  any  other  way. 

21st  August.  This  morning,  mamma,  myself, 
and  my  brother,  went  into  Paris  —  on  our  way 
made  a  call  on  Madame  Grand,  to  return  a  visit 
made  us  on  Thursday.  She  was  dressing,  and 
not  to  be  seen  —  the  Abbe  Arneau  was  with  us  — 
this  is  the  first  house  I  have  seen  in  any  degree 
of  order  or  neatness,  being  elegant  and  neat 
at  the  same  time.  At  five  my  brother  and  myself 
went  to  la  Comedie  du  bois  de  Boulogne  —  we 
were  too  early  and  walked  in  the  woods  ;  there 
were  a  s:reat  number  of  carriages.  I  imagined 
there  would  be  much  company  at  the  Comedie, 
but  found  they  were  more  disposed  for  walking 
than  seeing  the  play. 

The  music  was  pretty  good,  the  actors  and 
actresses  only  tolerable.  I  am  not  fond  of  come 
dy  in  general;  I  had  rather  be  improved  than 
amused,  if  the  distinction  can  be  made  between 
comedy  and  tragedy.  The  dresses  did  not  please 
me  as  much  as  those  in  England. 

August  22,  1784.     This  day,  fortnight,  I  left 


16  JOURNAL. 

London;  this  day,  ten  weeks,  I  left  America.  I 
had  not  thought  to  have  found  such  weather  in  a 
climate  I  had  heard  such  accounts  of —  we  have 
had  a  continual  storm,  except  yesterday,  since 
Tuesday. 

Mr.  Jefferson,  Col.  Humphreys,  and  a  Polish 
gentleman,  lately  from  America,  dined  with  us. 
Col.  H.  is  appointed  by  Congress,  Secretary  of 
the  Commercial  Commission  —  he  was  an  aid  to 
General  Washington.  He  seems  about  30,  his  ap 
pearance  is  soldier-like.  I  have  not  seen  enough 
of  these  people  to  form  a  judgment,  or  to  make 
any  remarks  with  justice. 

24th.  Went  in  the  morning  with  my  papa  and 
mamma  to  pay  our  respects  to  Dr.  Franklin ; 
this  man  on  whom  the  world  have  passed  such 
high  encomiums,  and  perhaps  justly ;  he  is  now 
near  80  years  old  and  looks  in  good  health. 

Wednesday,  25th.  We  all  dined  to-day  with 
the  three  abbes;  these  are  persons  who  exclude 
themselves  by  their  vows  from  marrying.  The 
youngest  is  about  60 ;  he  is  quite  a  gay  young 
man  —  at  least  he  appears  to  advantage  when  the 
others  are  present.  He  endeavours  to  make  us 
understand  what  he  says,  and  in  a  proper  man 
ner,  by  speaking  slow  and  distinctly;  he  has  long 
been  acquainted  with  papa,  and  visits  us  almost 
everyday.  We  had  a  very  elegant  dinner  ;  the 
apartments  are  very  neat  and  handsome.  It  is  not 


JOURNAL.  17 

the  custom  in  this  country  to  take  tea  in  the  af 
ternoon  ;  we  came  away  about  five. 

Saturday,  Aug.  28th.  To-day  we  have  had 
company  to  dine,  the  three  abbes,  Dr.  Franklin.  Mr. 
Hartly,  and  Commodore  Jones,  of  whom  so  much 
has  been  said  in  various  ways ;  he  has  received 
an  honorary  reward  from  the  French  King  of 
the  Star  or  Cross  of  St.  Louis,  for  some  service 
performed,  or  some  piece  of  conduct  highly  re 
vered,  and  is  taken  great  notice  of  here. 

Wednesday,  1st  September.  Dined  at  Dr. 
Franklin's  by  invitation;  a  number  of  gentlemen, 
and  Madame  Helvetius,  a  French  lady  60  years 
of  age. 

Odious  indeed  do  our  sex  appear  when  divest 
ed  of  those  ornaments,  with  which  modesty  and 
delicacy  adorn  them. 

September  5th.  To-day,  by  invitation,  we 
dined  with  Mr.  Grand  and  family  ;  after  dinner  it 
was  proposed  to  go  and  see  the  Dauphin,  whose 
palace  was  not  far  from  this.  The  palace  is  within 
a  garden,  in  which  no  person  is  permitted  to 
walk  any  days  but  Sundays;  then  it  is  open  to 
every  one ;  it  is  a  day  devoted  throughout  the 
kingdom  to  the  pleasures  of  every  class.  Among 
the  higher  class,  it  is  appropriated  to  visiting  and 
receiving  company ;  and  among  the  lower  class, 
it  is  devoted  to  any  amusement  they  choose  to 
follow.  With  the  rest  of  the  crowd  we  went  to 
2* 


18  JOURNAL. 

see  the  Dauphin  ;  before  the  palace  was  a  garden 
with  an  open  fence  all  round  it.  His  lordship  was 
playing  with  an  iron  shovel ;  there  were  four  ladies 
attending  him,  one  was  a  dutchess,  and  the  others 
I  know  not  what ;  they  were  elegant  women  ; 
upon  our  approaching,  he  was  set  to  walking  and 
running,  to  give  us  an  opportunity  of  seeing  him  ; 
he  was  a  pretty,  sprightly  boy,  and  behaved  with 
the  same  ease  and  freedom  any  child  would.  There 
were  more  than  a  thousand  persons,  and  others 
continually  passing,  to  see  this  representative  of 
despotism. 

September  19th.  To-day  we  went  to  see  the 
balloon  ;  it  was  to  ascend  from  the  garden  of  the 
Tuilleries;  we  had  tickets  at  a  crown  a  person  to 
go  in.  We  left  our  carriage  outside  and  went  in  ; 
the  garden  1  had  never  been  in  before  ;  it  is  very 
large,  and  in  general,  elegant.  There  were  eight 
or  ten  thousand  persons  present.  This  people 
are  more  attentive  to  their  amusements  than  any 
thing  else ;  however,  as  we  were  upon  the  same 
errand,  it  is  unjust  to  reflect  upon  others,  whose 
curiosity  was  undoubtedly  as  well  founded.  \Ye 
walked  a  little,  took  a  view  of  the  company,  and 
approached  the  balloon  ;  it  was  made  of  taffetas 
and  in  the  form  of  an  egg,  if  both  ends  were  large  ; 
this  is  what  contains  the  air  ;  below  it  is  a  gallery 
where  are  the  adventurers  and  the  ballast.  At 
eleven  it  was  moved  from  the  place  of  its  stand- 


JOURNAL.  19 

ing  among  the  trees  to  an  open  situation,  and  the 
cords,  which  were  held  by  some  of  the  greatest 
men  in  the  kingdom,  were  cut ;  it  mounted  in  the 
air.  It  was  some  time  in  sight,  as  they  had  in 
tended  making  some  experiments  upon  their  ma 
chine.  At  six  in  the  evening  it  descended  at 
Bevre,  fifty  leagues  from  Paris.  At  two  o'clock 
the  same  day  there  was  a  storm  of  rain,  with 
thunder  and  lightning,  but  they  were  not  affected 
by  it. 

September  25th.  This  day  we  have  had  a 
company  of  twenty  persons  to  dine  with  us,  all 
Americans  but  four :  those  were  Mr.  Grand's 
family,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  B.  were  among  the  Ameri 
cans  ;  they  are  from  P.  and  are  travelling  for 
pleasure.  Mr.  B.  is  possessed  of  a  large  fortune  — 
both  very  young.  Mrs.  B.  is  only  20 ;  she  was 
married  at  16  ;  she  is  pretty,  a  good  figure,  but 
rather  still.  She  has  not  been  long  enough  in 
this  country  to  have  gained  that  ease  of  air  and 
manner  which  is  peculiar  to  the  women  here ;  and 
when  it  does  not  exceed  the  bounds  of  delicacy,  is 
very  pleasing.  Mrs.  B.  has  been  in  Europe  two 
years.  I  admire  her  that  she  is  not  in  the  small 
est  degree  tinctured  by  indelicacy.  She  has,  from 
the  little  acquaintance  I  have  had  with  her,  gen 
uine  principles;  she  is  very  sprightly  and  very 
pleasing. 

Monday,  27th.     Went   to   the    Italian  opera. 


20  JOURNAL. 

and  saw  presented  a  little  piece  that  has  made  a 
great  noise  ;  it  is  a  history  of  the  whims  and  co 
quetry  of  two  lovers  —  a  good  representation  of  the 
ridiculous. 

Thursday,  30th.  Went  to  Paris,  and  dined  by 
invitation  with  Mr.  Jefferson ;  met  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
B.,  Mrs.  Barclay.  Mr.  J.  is  an  agreeable  man. 
Col.  H.  is  I  dont  know  what —  a  sensible  man  I 
believe  —  but  his  address  is  not  very  agreeable  ; 
he  is  I  believe  a  very  worthy  character.  Mrs. 
B.  has  a  most  pleasing  address,  and  a  very  happy 
turn  of  expression,  with  a  good  deal  of  polite 
ness —  she  will  not  fail  to  please.  Mr.  B.  is  an 
agreeable  man — he  is  delicately  attentive,  and  his 
behaviour  to  Madame  is  very  pleasing. 

Monday,  4th  October.  Went  to  dine  with  Dr. 
Franklin,  found  Gov.  Pownall  and  lady,  Mr.  J., 
Col.  H.,  the  two  abbes,  and  some  others.  After 
dinner  my  brother  and  myself  accepted  of  Mr. 
Jefferson's  invitation,  and  went  to  the  Concert  at 
the  Chateau  of  the  Tuilleries,  which  was  by 
order.  Prince  Henry,  brother  to  the  King  of 
Prussia,  was  there. 

Tuesday,  5th.  Papa  went  to  Versailles  ;  every 
Tuesday  is  called  Ambassador's  Day  ;  in  general 
they  all  attend. 

Wednesday,  6th.  To-day  papa  dined  with  the 
Spanish  Ambassador  ;  when  he  returned  he  gave 
us  an  account  of  his  visit;  he  is  about  80  years 


JOURNAL.  21 

old,  and  has  lately  married  a  young  lady  of  16, 
his  niece  and  heir  to  his  fortune.  Papa  told  me 
it  was  an  affecting  sight  to  see  such  a  couple  ; 
he  seemed  very  much  disgusted  at  the  match, 
where  such  inequality  of  age  existed  ;  he  said 
Madame,  the  Countess,  appeared  absolutely  mel 
ancholy  ;  he  really  pitied  her. 

Thursday,  7th  October.  Governor  Pownall 
and  lady,  a  Mr.  Hobart,  an  English  gentlman, 
dined  with  us  to-day.  I  do  not  pretend  to  draw 
portraits.  After  dinner  Mrs.  Pownall  very  politely 
invited  me  to  accompany  her  in  visiting  the  house 
and  garden  of  the  Duke  de  Chartres ;  she  had 
tickets  or  permission  from  the  Duke.  I  did  so,  and 
was  not  only  pleased  with  my  acquaintance  with 
her,  but  exceedingly  gratified  with  what  I  saw. 
The  Duke  has  built,  finished,  and  furnished  the 
house  in  the  English  style.  I  can  truly  say,  I  never 
saw  any  thing  so  elegant ;  it  seems  a  winding  laby 
rinth.  We  were  first  shown  into  the  winter  garden 
and  grotto  ;  the  latter  is  entirely  artificial ;  it  was 
large  ;  but,  it  is  dark  —  we  could  not  see  enough  of 
it  to  enable  me  to  describe  it  farther.  The  winter 
garden  was  under  cover;  here,  the  servant  told 
us  the  Duke  generally  dines  in  the  winter;  it  is 
large  and  appropriated  to  pleasure.  From  this 
room  we  went  into  a  little  room  which  was 
French,  and  surrounded  with  mirrors ;  the  furni 
ture  was  yellow  silk.  Then  we  were  shown  into 


22  JOURNAL. 

a  long  gallery  covered  with  transparent  paintings, 
which  when  lighted  must  be  beautiful  ;  here  were 
a  variety  of  rooms,  all  of  which  we  saw  with  so 
much  haste,  that  I  do  not  remember  their  distinc 
tion  ;  they  were  all  perfectly  English  and  elegant. 
There  were  glasses  so  arranged  that  we  saw 
through  the  whole.  We  were  unfortunately  so 
late  thatwe  could  not  see  thegardens,  and  returned 
to  Auteuil.  Governor  P.  and  lady  returned  to 
Paris,  leaving  me  much  gratified,  and  obliged  by 
their  politeness.  There  is  great  pleasure  in  see 
ing  things  perfectly  agreeable  to  our  taste. 

8th.  We  received  letters  from  our  American 
friends. 

9th.  A  great  fast  and  a  sober  day  amongst  the 
people  of  this  country.  Our  French  servant  has 
been  to  mass,  which  I  am  sure  he  has  not  before 
since  he  has  lived  with  us.  In  the  afternoon  my 
brother  and  I  took  a  walk  in  the  garden  of  the 
Friars,  which  is  a  little  distance  from  us,  and  an 
agreeable  walk.  This  class  of  men  are  perhaps 
the  most  numerous  of  any  in  France,  and  they 
have  in  general,  appropriated  the  best  situations 
in  the  country  to  themselves.  One  seldom  sees 
a  high  hill,  and  a  good  situation,  but  it  is  covered 
with  a  monastery  or  a  convent. 

12th.  Papa  and  my  brother  dined  with  the 
Swedish  Ambassador;  the  dinner  was  very  sump 
tuous  and  elegant  j  it  was  served  in  plate,  except 


JOURNAL.  23 

the  last  course,  which  was  China,  gilt  knives, 
forks,  and  spoons  ;  every  thing  to  correspond. 

13th.  Went  in  the  afternoon  to  visit  Madame 
Grand  ;  found  the  ladies  at  home,  and  passed  a 
very  agreeable  hour  j  met  a  young  French  lady 
who  spoke  English  very  well.  It  is  the  custom 
in  this  country  never  to  introduce  persons  to  each 
other.  I  found  her  very  agreeable  and  should  have 
been  happy  to  have  requested  to  commence  an  ac 
quaintance,  but  that  is  not  done  by  words.  If  you 
wish  to  be  visited,  you  must  make  the  first  visit, 
and  no  one  will  be  so  impolite  as  not  to  return  it : 
thus  your  acquaintance  commences  and  grows. 
The  oftener  you  visit,  the  sooner  you  will  become 
acquainted;  and  when  you  part,  it  is  not  the  cus 
tom  to  ask  the  return  of  the  visit.  I  was  much 
pleased  with  mine  to-day,  and  should  have  been 
pleased  to  have  made  it  longer. 

Came  home  and  found  Mr.  Jefferson  again. 
He  is  an  agreeable  man  ;  we  should  be  obliged  to 
him  for  taking  the  trouble  to  come  out ;  if  he  had 
not  had  business,  I  fancy  he  would  not  have  come 
to-day. 

Thursday,  14th  Oct.  1784.  —  Mr.  Jefferson 
sent  us  cards  yesterday  to  admit  us  to  see  the 
ceremony  of  taking  the  veil,  in  the  convent  where 
his  daughter  is  to  receive  her  education.  We 
rose  at  seven,  dressed,  and  went  into  Paris,  and 
breakfasted  with  Madame  Barclay.  At  nine  we 


24  JOURNAL. 

went  to  the  Church,  where  we  found  a  number 
of  persons  of  our  acquaintance.  Upon  this  occa 
sion  we  were  admitted  to  the  altar  where  the  priest 
performs,  which  at  other  times  is  not  allowed. 
It  was  separated  from  the  place  of  the  nuns  and 
those  of  the  convent,  by  iron  grates.  The  place 
in  which  they  were,  was  a  large  apartment,  with 
seats  around.  The  floor  was  covered  with  an  ele 
gant  carpet — here  were  the  nuns  only.  When 
we  first  went  they  were  repeating  their  prayers ; 
presently  the  curtains  were  drawn  aside,  the  lady 
abbess  and  other  nuns,  with  all  the  pensioners, 
came.  The  candles  were  lighted —  each  nun  held 
a  lighted  candle  in  her  hand  ;  the  two  nuns  who 
were  to  take  the  veil,  came  forward,  attended  by 
two  English  ladies  who  were  pensioners ;  each 
held  a  large  lighted  torch  in  her  hand  —  they  were 
elegantly  dressed,  and  in  all  the  vanities  of  the 
world. 

The  two  nuns  were  in  fine,  white  woollen  dres 
ses,  made  like  a  parson's  robes,  loose  and  flowing  ; 
their  veils  were  white ;  they  appeared  first  with 
a  different  made  robe  on  ;  it  was  rather  a  cloak 
very  long ;  their  hair  all  shaved  off;  a  white  cap 
and  veil.  They  came  and  kneeled  before  the 
altar  ;  there  was  much  sinking  arid  chanting  of 
prayers.  It  is  impossible  to  describe  the  many 
different  manners  and  forms,  alternately  kneeling 
and  rising.  The  priest  came  to  the  altar  and 


JOURNAL.  25 

made  many  signs  that  I  did  not  understand. 
There  were  three  who  assisted  ;  one  of  them  de 
livered  a  sermon  in  French.  He  began  by  expa 
tiating  upon  the  goodness  of  the  king  ;  then  on 
the  excellence  of  every  particular  class  of  people, 
from  the  throne  to  the  footstool.  He  told  them 
this  was  a  very  good  world  to  live  in,  and  that  it 
was  very  wrong  to  quit  it.  After  dwelling  a  long 
time  upon  its  excellence,  he  told  them  a  false 
philosophy  had  got  into  the  world,  and  every  thing 
was  becoming  bad  ;  every  one  was  guided  by  self- 
interest,  and  they  had  the  happiest  prospect  in 
quitting  it.  At  the  same  time,  he  represented  to 
them  the  disagreeableness  of  their  situation  ;  that 
they  would  be  confined,  and  that  very  possibly 
their  actions  would  be  wrongly  construed.  If 
they  should  be  gay,  the  nuns  would  say  of  them, 
that  they  had  not  yet  quitted  the  world.  If  they 
were  grave,  they  might  say,  that  they  were  un 
happy  and  repented  of  their  vows.  After  this  the 
nuns  went  round  and  took  leave  of  all  the  others, 
and  kissed  them.  Then  they  laid  down  upon 
their  faces,  and  there  was  brought  in,  by  eight 
pensioners,  a  pall  of  black,  crossed  with  white, 
which  was  held  over  them  ;  the  priest  then  read 
some  part  of  the  ceremony.  The  nuns  chanted 
their  prayers.  This  was  an  affecting  sight ;  I 
could  not  refrain  from  tears  ;  every  one  seemed 
affected  around,  particularly  the  French.  One 
3 


26  JOURNAL. 

of  the  priests  seemed  affected ;  the  others  appeared 
as  insensible  as  statues  of  lead  or  wood.  This 
ceremony  lasted  half  an  hour,  while  these  poor 
girls  were  lying  on  their  faces  ;  and  when  they 
rise,  it  is  called  rising  to  the  resurrection,  after  hav 
ing  been  dead  to  the  world.  Then  they  went  to 
the  old  abbess;  she  put  upon  them  the  nun's  habit. 
While  this  was  performing,  the  countenance  of 
first  of  the  nuns,  who  was  French,  and  of  one 
of  the  first  families  in  the  kingdom,  which  had 
been  without  a  smile  and  entirely  inattentive 
to  every  thing  but  her  devotion,  was  lighted  up 
with  a  smile,  and  she  appeared  very  pleasing. 
The  other  was  an  Irish  girl ;  her  countenance 
was  not  very  expressive ;  it  seemed  calm,  arid 
without  any  appearance  of  the  least  degree  of  per 
turbation  of  spirits.  The  first,  I  observed,  blushed 
often,  and  seemed  affected.  After  the  robe  was 
put  on,  there  were  more  reading  and  prayers  ;  then 
the  priest  sprinkled  the  veil  destined  for  them 
with  holy  water,  and  perfumed  it  with  frank  in 
cense.  The  abbess  then  put  it  on  them  while 
they  kneeled  before  her  ;  then  followed  more  pray 
ers  and  reading  :  then  the  abbess  pinned  upon 
each  of  their  heads  a  wreath  of  flowers  ;  this  was 
a  part  of  the  ceremony,  as  none  of  the  nuns  but 
them  had  them.  A  candle  was  then  put  into  their 
hands  and  mass  was  said,  which,  with  the  prayers 
and  the  whole  ceremony,  was  performed  in  Latin, 


t* 

JOURNAL.  27 

of  which  I  suppose  they  understood  as  much  as  I 
did. 

When  the  priest  in  his  sermon,  invited  all  the 
others  who  were  present,  to  follow  the  example  of 
these  nuns,  1  observed  the  English  girl,  who  held 
the  candle  for  one  of  them,  look  very  sharp  upon 
the  other  English  girl,  whose  countenance  ex 
pressed  that  she  knew  better  than  all  this  —  that 
she  had  no  such  intention — quite  right  she. 

The  relations  of  the  two  victims  appeared  less 
affected  than  any  one  present.  It  is  very  probable 
they  are  the  victims  of  pride  or  wickedness.  Thus 
these  two  girls  are  destined  to  pass  their  lives 
within  the  walls  of  this  convent.  They  are  not 
so  strict  as  formerly.  Miss  Jefferson  told  me  they 
were  very  cheerful  and  agreeable.  They  seemed 
to  take  pleasure  in  contributing  to  the  happiness 
of  the  pensioners.  There  were  three  princesses 
who  are  here  for  their  education,  and  were  dis 
tinguished  from  the  others  by  a  blue  ribbon  over 
the  shoulder. 

This  is  considered  the  best  and  most  genteel 
convent  in  Paris.  Most  of  the  English,  who  send 
their  children  here  for  their  education,  put  them 
into  this  convent.  There  are  a  number  now  here. 

Tuesday,  19th.  Oct.  Mr.  B.  came  flourishing 
out  in  the  morning  to  accompany  papa  to  Ver 
sailles,  to  be  presented  to  his  most  Christian  ma- 


28  JOURNAL. 

jesty,  the  King  of  France,  with  his  four  horses  and 
three  servants,  in  all  the  pomp  of  an  American 
merchant.  About  twelve  they  returned,  as  there 
was  no  court. 

Oct.  22.  Breakfasted  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bing- 
ham,  and  went  with  them  to  see  the  Duke  de 
Chartres'  gardens,  which,  if  they  were  intended 
as  an  imitation  of  the  English,  were  rather  a  bur 
lesque  upon  them,  or  rather  a  proof  how  very  in 
adequate  the  French  are,  to  imitate  the  perfection 
to  which  the  English  have  arrived.  I  would  not 
detract  from  the  merits  of  this  nation  in  any  res 
pect,  but  certainly,  they  do  not  equal  the  English 
in  the  neatnass  and  elegance  of  their  gardens. 
Those  at  Chantilly,  which  are  equal  to  any  in 
France,  were  deficient  in  general  neatness.  We 
were  not  permitted  to  see  the  house,  which  was  a 
greater  disappointment  to  the  other  ladies,  than  to 
me,  as  I  had  seen  it  before.  A  French  gentleman 
accompanied  us,  a  very  agreeable  man,  who  has 
been  in  America,  and  was  perhaps  improved. 
What  a  local  sentiment  is  this,  and  yet  perhaps  a 
just  one,  for  this  gentleman  certainly  discovered 
more  modesty,  than  those  gentlemen  who  have 
been  only  used  to  French  manners  would.  We 
saw  the  gardens,  which  were  very  inadequate  to 
my  expectations ;  we  returned  to  Auteuil  before 
dinner. 

26th.     We  all  dined  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bing- 


JOURNAL.  29 

ham  at  their  hotel,  which  is  the  Hotel  Muscovy. 
There  was  much  company :  Mrs.  B.  gains  my 
love  and  admiration,  more  and  more  every  time  I 
see  her  ;  she  is  possessed  of  more  ease  and  polite 
ness  in  her  behaviour,  than  any  person  I  have 
seen.  She  joins  in  every  conversation  in  compa 
ny;  and  when  engaged  herself  in  conversing  with 
you,  she  will,  by  joining  directly  in  another  chit 
chat  with  another  party,  convince  you,  that  she 
was  all  attention  to  every  one.  She  has  a  taste 
for  show,  but  not  above  her  circumstances.  Mr. 
B.  is  an  agreeable  man,  but  seems  to  feel  the  su 
periority  of  fortune  more  than  Mrs.  B.  After  din 
ner  we  went  to  the  play  without  saying  a  word 
to  any  body,  which  was  hardly  civil  according  to 
my  ideas  ;  but  it  was  French. 

Oct.  27th.  To-day  we  have  had  company  to 
dine ;  all  Americans  but  the  three  abbes  ;  we 
passed  the  time  agreeably.  Mr.  Jefferson  was  pre 
vented  by  indisposition. 

28th.  Dined  to-day,  by  invitation,  with  Mon 
sieur  Chalut,  brother  to  the  Abbe  Chalut,  —  he  is 
a  very  old  man,  and  appears  older  than  he  really 
is.  There  was  a  young  lady  whom  I  took  for  his 
daughter  ;  a  very  pretty,  sprightly  brunette.  She 
called  him  mon  pere,  and  he  called  her  mon  fille. 
She  is  a  very  accomplished  girl.  When  we  came 
away,  papa  told  me  her  history. 
3* 


30  JOURNAL. 

Madame  Chalut  went  one  day  to  the  repository 
of  foundlings,  and  took  this  girl  out,  as  a  play 
thing,  as  she  had  no  children.  She  brought  her 
home  and  educated  her  in  the  most  polite  manner, 
giving  her  a  master  for  every  accomplishment, 
and  treated  her  as  tenderly  as  if  she  had  been  her 
own  child,  until  she  died  three  years  since.  Her 
husband  takes  the  same  care  of  her  ;  she  has  a 
master  to  teach  her  English,  an  abbe  ;  he  had 
been  in  America ;  he  speaks  English  very  well. 
There  was  other  company,  and  by  their  ribbons 
I  suppose  were  great  folks.  But  persons  in  this 
country  are  seldom,  if  ever,  introduced  ;  and  one 
may  dine  in  an  hundred  companies,  and  converse 
with  every  one  in  company  without  knowing 
them.  The  abbes  told  my  father  at  table  to-day, 
that  they  dined  once  or  twice  a  week  with  this 
gentleman,  their  brother,  and  half  the  time  knew 
not  half  the  company.  We  had  an  elegant  dinner 
all  served  in  plate,  which  I  cannot  like  as  well  as 
china,  though  it  has  the  appearance  of  more  riches 
and  grandeur.  We  came  away  after  dinner  and 
went  to  pay  our  respects  to  madame,  the  Marquise 
de  la  Fayette.  We  were  shown  to  the  ladies  in 
their  rooms.  Madame,  the  Marquise,  her  mother, 
and  youngest  sister,  were  sitting  in  an  unceremo 
nious  way  with  their  work,  and  seemed  to  be  in 
that  social  manner  that  we  boast  of  in  America. 
They  seemed  to  be  going  out ;  so  we  made  a  short 


JOURNAL.  31 

visit.  Madame  de  la  Fayette  received  us  very 
civilly  and  cordially,  with  great  ease  and  goodness, 
and  very  politely  apologized  for  not  waiting  upon 
us  first.  She  speaks  English  a  little.  I  had  al 
ways  heard  she  was  handsome ;  I  do  not  think  her 
so;  she  was  not  painted,  and  very  little  dressed;  she 
is  very  agreeable  and  pleasing,  as  indeed  are  all 
the  ladies  of  this  country ;  not  equalled  by  any 
other  1  believe.  As  we  came  out,  we  met  Mr. 
Jefferson  and  Mr.  Williamson  going  in.  We  went 
to  the  Comedie  Francais  ;  they  gave  us  two  laugh 
able  pieces,  but  I  did  not  feel  disposed  to  laugh  at 
them. 

Nov.  7th,  1784.  This  morning,  for  the  first 
time  since  I  have  been  in  France,  I  went  with  my 
papa,  mamma,  and  brother,  to  the  Dutch  Ambassa 
dor's  Chapel ;  the  service  was  in  French.  When 
we  came  out,  papa  went  with  us  to  the  Hospital  of 
Invalids,  which  is  upon  the  other  side  of  the  river 
as  we  go  to  Paris.  This  institution  was  founded 
by  Louis  the  14th,  to  equal,  or  out  do,  the  Eng 
lish.  Every  body  who  went  to  England  extolled 
St.  Paul's  Church ;  his  pride  was  touched  by  the 
praises  bestowed  upon  that  building,  and  he  un 
dertook  to  have  this  built,  to  equal  the  English.  It 
is  a  building  not  so  large  as  St.  Paul's  ;  there  is  a 
fine  court,  and  the  building  is  very  elegant.  The 
dome,  which  we  see  every  day  as  we  so  to  Paris, 
is  the  curiosity  of  the  whole.  It  is  a  Church  in  a 


32  JOURNAL. 

circular  form,  paved  with  marble,  wrought  and 
inlaid  in  various  forms  and  in  various  colours, 
most  elegant  and  beautiful  ;  at  each  corner  is  a 
Chapel,  as  they  are  called,  ornamented  with  three 
statues  of  white  marble  of  the  saint  and  saintess. 
The  whole  was  embellished  with  fine  paintings. 
The  invalids  received  here  are  those  who  have 
served  in  the  army  twenty-five  years,  old  or  sick. 
We  returned  home. 

Madame  de  la  Fayette  is  a  fine  woman  ;  speaks 
a  little  English :  perfectly  easy  in  her  manners ; 
a  little  French  in  some  respects ;  sprightly  and 
very  pleasing.  As  we  were  sitting  round  the  fire, 
the  door  opened,  and  this  lady  entered  with  all 
the  freedom  of  a  familiar  friend,  how  much  more 
agreeable  than  any  other  manner  possible.  The 
women  universally  in  this  country,  and  the  ladies 
of  education  in  particular,  have  an  ease  and  soft 
ness  in  their  manners,  that  is  not  found  in  any 
other  country  perhaps  in  the  world ;  it  is  very 
charnung,  and  were  it  not  for  some  little  excep 
tions,  their  manners  would  I  think  be  perfect. 
She  sat  half  an  hour,  and  left  us  much  pleased 
with  her. 

llth  Nov.  Papa  and  mamma  being  indisposed, 
my  brother  and  myself  dined  at  Mr.  B.'s  by  invi 
tation  ;  we  found  mostly  Americans  ;  I  had  rather 
they  had  been  French.  The  only  lady  was  Mrs. 
C.  except  myself;  I  found  her  much  more  agree- 


JOURNAL. 


33 


able  than  I  expected.  Mr.  C.  had  not  the  good 
fortune  to  please  me.  In  the  eve  we  went  to  the 
Italian  comedy  ;  I  was  pleased  and  entertained. 

18th.  To-day  we  had  company  to  dine  —  all 
Americans  but  the  Marchioness  de  la  Fayette  ; 
all  have  been  mentioned  here  before,  and  no  one 
except  Mr.  Jackson  merits  a  second  observation. 
He  is  without  exception,  the  most  polite  man  I 
have  ever  seen  ;  by  politeness  I  mean  not  that 
light  superficial  frothiness  which  we  often  meet 
with,  and  which  sometimes  conceals  a  great  deal 
of  rudeness,  but  a  certain  something1  in  his  man 
ners  and  appearance  that  cannot  fail  to  please 
every  one  who  is  acquainted  with  him  ;  my  papa 
calls  him  the  Sir  Charles  Grandison  of  this  age  ; 
I  was  never  acquainted  with  him  until  I  came  to 
France  ;  I  consider  it  an  acquisition. 

21st.  Went  to  Paris  in  the  evening,  to  the 
Comedie  Francois,  where  was  played  Arnphriton, 
a  comedy  of  Molire's. 

Nov.  28th.  A  most  beautiful  day ;  we  had  to 
dine  with  us  Mr.  Jackson,  my  favourite  ;  he  is  in 
deed  a  most  worthy  man ;  —  Dr.  Bancroft,  the  au 
thor  of  Charles  Wentworth  ;  he  is  about  40  ;  his 
manners  and  conversation  are  agreeable  —  and 
when  one  has  heard  him  converse  for  a  few  hours, 
though  not  upon  any  particular  subject,  one  is 
rather  pleased  than  otherwise.  Also  two  young 
Americans,  a  Mr.  B.  a  Virginian,  the  other  a  Phil- 


34  JOURNAL. 

adelphian  ;  and  I  do  not  believe,  that  to  have 
searched  the  kingdom  of  France,  one  could  have 
found  two  greater  curiosities  in  appearance.  Mr. 
J.  is  the  only  gentleman  1  have  had  any  kind  of 
conversation  with  since  I  have  been  here. 

I  have  often  complained  of  a  stiffness  and  re 
serve  in  our  circles  in  America,  that  was  disagree 
able  —  what  every  one  complained  of  and  no  one 
banished ;  a  little  French  ease  adopted  would  be 
an  improvement.  There  are  many  customs  here 
that  might  advantageously  be  carried  into  prac 
tice  with  us,  and  others  that  would  not  be  found 
agreeable.  In  company  here,  every  one  consults 
his  own  pleasure  ;  the  ladies  walk  about,  view  the 
pictures  if  there  are  any,  chat  with  any  one  who 
pleases  them,  talk  of  general  subjects,  such  as  the 
spectacles ;  no  one  in  general  is  introduced,  but 
this  does  not  retard  the  general  sociability ;  per 
sonal  subjects  are  to  be  avoided,  and  no  ill  must 
be  spoken  of  any  one  ;  persons  need  not  be  guard 
ed,  for  no  one  should  feel  an  inclination  to  say 
any  thing  to  the  detriment  of  another.  Your 
company  may  form  into  parties,  and  converse  as 
they  please ;  in  some  respects  it  is  agreeable. 

Tuesday  30th.  Papa  went  to  Versailles  by 
himself  last  Tuesday ;  he  introduced  Mr.  J.  Mr. 
T.  and  Mr.  B.  the  first  American  gentlemen  in 
private  characters,  that  have  been  introduced  at 
this  court.  Mr.  B.'s  ambition  promoted  it;  what 


JOURNAL.  35 

it  will  promote  him  to  I  know  not ;  if  to  what  he 
wishes,  it  is  easily  determined. 

December  1st.  This  morning  Col.  H.  came  out 
with  Mr.  W.  to  introduce  a  Mr.  S.  a  young  Ameri 
can  from  Virginia;  he  comes  recommended  high 
ly,  and  is  to  live  with  Mr.  Jefferson;  to-morrow 
he  dines  with  us.  I  have  not  seen  him,  as  I  do 
not  make  my  appearance  to  the  gentlemen.  All 
classes  of  persons  in  this  country  have  their  fetes, 
which  are  certain  days  when  they  feel  themselves 
entitled  to  ask  a  livre  or  two  ;  the  gardner  has 
his,  and  the  coachman  his ;  it  is  here  mentioned 
as  a  custom  of  the  country  resulting  from  their 
religion. 

2d.  To-day  we  had  company  to  dine  ;  the 
Ambassador  of  Sweden,  and  the  Baron  de  Guere, 
Mr.  Haldersdorf,  and  many  others.  The  ambas- 
dor  is  a  man  of  five  arid  thirty,  but  appears  not 
more  than  twenty  seven  at  most ;  he  is  tall,  grace 
ful  in  his  person,  a  fine  complexion,  good  colour, 
good  features,  in  short  a  very  handsome  man ;  he 
spoke  no  English,  but  with  bad  French  and  a  little 
English  ;  I  had  some  conversation  with  him.  The 
disposition  he  discovered  to  converse,  made  him 
appear  very  agreeable;  he  spoke  of  the  French 
ladies,  but  not  with  much  approbation.  He  told 
my  brother  that  a  French  lady  of  my  age  would 
appear  ten  years  older  than  I  did,  their  complex 
ions  being  so  very  dark,  adding  that  one  could  not 


36  JOURNAL. 

find  in  France  so  good  a  complexion  as  mine ;  I 
could  with  justice  have  returned  the  compliment, 
if  it  was  one.  I  observed  that  I  thought  by  what 
I  had  seen  at  the  theatres,  that  the  French  ladies 
had  good  complexions.  Oh  no,  said  he,  avec  un- 
peu  de  rouge  et  blanche,  they  appear  tolerable. 
He  praised  the  ladies  of  Sweden  ;  the  Baron  de 
Guere  was  likewise  a  Swede ;  I  had  much  conver 
sation  with  him  about  America.  I  sat  next  to 
Mr.  Jackson  at  table,  and  next  to  him  was  seated 
Madame  B.  who  by  an  exuberance  of  sprightli- 
ness  and  wit,  slips  from  the  path  of  being  perfectly 
agreeable ;  a  little  judgment  would  amend  what 
ever  defects  may  appear. 

Mamma  and  myself  called  to  see  Mrs.  C.  who 
received  us  with  softness,  sweetness,  and  affabili 
ty  ;  every  thing  is  delicate  and  agreeable,  except 
the  husband  ;  however,  he  has  always  behaved 
very  well  when  I  have  seen  him.  After  we  had 
made  our  visit,  we  went  to  the  Comedie  Fran- 
cais  to  see  Figaro,  papa  and  mamma  never  having 
seen  it.  I  found  I  understood  it  better  than  any 
other  piece  I  have  yet  seen  ;  this  is  the  64th 
representation.  It  is  indeed  surprising  that  a 
piece  with  so  little  merit  should  fill  the  house  so 
frequently  ;  it  is  from  beginning  to  the  end  a 
piece  of  studied  deception  and  intrigue ;  it  has 
never  been  printed,  and  it  is  thought  it  never  will 
be.  There  appears  to  be  a  great  deal  of  low  wit, 


JOURNAL.  37 

to  gain  the  approbation  of  the  vulgar ;  but  it 
seems  to  have  gained  the  good  will  of  higher 
ranks  ;  every  one  exclaims  against  the  morals  of 
it,  and  yet  every  one  adds  to  the  number  of  spec 
tators.  Mademoiselle  Contar  plays  admirably  in 
it ;  she  is  the  heroine  of  the  piece,  and  is  certainly 
charming ;  so  much  ease,  grace,  and  such  an  ap 
parent  simplicity,  that  one  might  take  her  for  a 
saint,  if  they  knew  not  that  she  was  a  courtesan. 
Dec.  31st.  To-day  by  invitation,  we  dined  with 
the  abbes.  Mademoiselle  Lucelle  was  there,  and 
two  gentlemen.  She  speaks  a  little  English,  and 
I  a  little  French ;  so  we  had  some  conversation. 
She  has  the  ease  and  affability,  sprightliness,  at 
tention,  and  apparent  solicitude  to  please,  of  a  real 
French  girl.  This  solicitude  is  not  troublesome, 
nor  does  it  discover  itself  by  apparent  studious- 
ness,  but  when  you  least  think  of  it,  she  makes 
some  advance  which  never  fails  of  success.  I  sat 
next  her  at  table,  she  corrected  my  French,  I  in 
return,  corrected  her  English.  She  sings,  and 
although  I  think  she  has  not  the  least  voice  in  the 
world,  complies  with  your  request  without  hesi 
tation  ;  she  was  going  to  the  opera,  and  left  us  at 
five  o'clock.  The  Abbe  Arno,  though  60  years 
old,  is  a  man  of  much  vivacity  and  wit,  with  al 
ways  a  great  deal  of  pleasantry.  The  Abbe  de 
Mably,  who  is  always  of  our  parties  there,  and  dines 
with  us  with  the  other  two,  although  he  does  not 
4 


38  JOURNAL. 

live  with  them ;  he  is  eighty  years  old,  a  man  of 
great  learning  ;  has  written  many  things  that  are 
highly  spoken  of;  among  them  are  some  letters  to 
my  papa  upon  the  forms  of  our  government ;  they 
have  been  translated,  and  three  editions  of  them 
out  in  London.  He  spoke  yesterday  very  highly 
of  Telemachus,  as  one  of  the  finest  things  in  the 
French  language  ;  he  said  he  had  read  it  very 
often,  and  always  was  charmed  with  it ;  it  was  ad 
mirably  well  expressed.  He  said  he  had  sometimes 
reflected  how  he  should  have  rendered  the  same 
sentiments,  arid  that  he  always  finds  he  should 
not  have  equalled  the  author.  After  we  came 
away,  we  went  to  Mr.  Jefferson's,  where  I  had  the 
honour  and  pleasure  of  making  tea  for  the  gentle 
men,  Mr.  J.,  Mr.  W.,  Mr.  H.,  Mr.  S.,  Mr.  Ad 
ams  and  his  son.  mamma  and  myself.  After 
tea,  we  went  to  see  the  hall  where  the  courts  of 
justice  are  held  ;  it  was  New-year's  eve,  and  filled 
with  people,  some  to  gratify  their  curiosity,  some 
to  make  purchases  at  the  shops.  In  such  a 
crowd  in  London  we  should  expect  to  be  robbed, 
but  here,  one  is  entirely  safe  in  the  streets  and  at 
public  places.  We  returned  to  Auteuil  about 
nine. 

Jan.  1st,  1785.  Papa  went  to  court,  it  being-  a 
great  day  ;  the  ladies  were  much  dressed  ;  the 
king  and  queen  first  received  the  ambassadors, 
then  went  to  mass  for  an  hour,  then  dined  in  pub- 


JOURNAL. 


39 


lie.  to  give  all  the  world  the  opportunity  to  see  them 
eat  and  drink  ;  this  ceremony  is  called  the  Grand 
Convert,  of  which  there  are  three  in  a  year. 

3d.  It  is  customary  in  this  country,  and  I  be 
lieve  in  all  Europe,  to  visit  and  receive  visits,  to 
congratulate  every  one  of  their  acquaintance  upon 
the  new  year.  I  asked  one  gentleman  about  the 
dress  of  the  ladies  on  Saturday  at  Versailles,  but 
he  could  not  tell  me  more  than  papa.  I  think  he 
related  an  anecdote  at  one  of  the  feasts  given  to 
the  King  of  Sweden,  who  was  here  the  last  year, 
and  to  whom  the  court  was  very  civil,  by  paying 
him  every  polite  attention  ;  upon  these  occasions 
it  is  customary  for  the  court  and  the  ambassadors 
to  dress  more  than  usual.  Madame  Adelaide,  one 
of  the  king's  aunts,  addressed  herself  to  Monsieur 
la  Compt  de  Mercy  in  French  —  "  how  comes  it, 
Monsieur  Ambassador,  that  you  are  solittle  dressed 
on  this  occasion  ?"  The  ambassador  seemed  a  little 
surprised  :  "  I  do  not  know,  madam  ;  my  coat  cost 
me  80,000  livres."  "Then,"  said  she,  "you 
should  have  pinned  the  price  upon  the  back  of 
it."  It  was  green  velvet,  very  plain,  with  dia 
mond  buttons  ;  a  very  curious  circumstance  that 
the  ambassador  should  be  obliged  to  tell  the  price 
of  his  coat. 

My  brother  and  myself  attended  one  of  the  little 
theatres  ;  after  the  entertainment  was  over,  we 
walked  in  the  Palais  Royal ;  this  is  a  very  fash- 


40  JOURNAL. 

ionable  public  walk,  since  the  Duke  de  Chartres 
has  improved  it  so  very  much  ;  it  was  formerly 
a  small  public  garden.  The  palace  was  very  in 
different  when  the  duke  came  into  the  possession 
of  it ;  he  cut  down  the  trees,  and  added  to  the 
building,  so  as  to  make  four  sides,  and  enclose  the 
gardens  in  the  centre,  and  made  a  covered  walk 
all  around  the  square,  that  renders  it  very  agree 
able  and  convenient ;  the  lower  part  of  the  houses 
are  converted  into  shops,  the  other  stories  to  other 
purposes,  some  to  hotels.  It  was  generally  sup 
posed  the  duke  would  ruin  himself  by  the  expense 
he  was  at,  paying  ten  per  cent,  for  the  money  he 
borrowed,  and  they  called  it  the  Duke  de  Char 
tres'  folly  ;  but,  from  its  beauty  and  lucrativeness, 
it  proves  to  be  wisdom.  We  met  some  acquaint 
ances,  and  when  I  came  home,  I  had  a  feast  of 
letters  from  America. 

1785.  Last  Friday,  the  7th  of  January,  Mr. 
Blanchard  and  Dr.  Jeffries  ascended  at  Dover  in 
a  balloon,  and  in  two  hours  descended  a  league 
from  Calais,  to  the  great  joy  and  admiration  of 
every  one  who  saw  them.  The  people  of  Calais 
received  the  aeriel  travellers  with  every  mark  of 
attention,  respect,  and  admiration  ;  they  presented 
Mr.  Blanchard  with  a  gold  box,  the  figure  of  his 
balloon  on  the  cover,  and  presented  him  with  let 
ters,  giving  him  the  title  of  citizen  of  Calais. 
They  offered  the  same  to  Dr.  J.  but  he,  being  a 


JOURNAL.  41 

stranger,  declined  them ;  probably  thinking  his 
situation  in  England  would  be  rendered  more  dis 
agreeable,  and  create  jealousies  by  such  a  distinc 
tion.  They  likewise  requested  of  Mr.  Blanchard 
his  balloon  to  put  into  the  Cathedral  Church  at 
Calais,  as  the  ship  of  Columbus  was  put  into  a 
Church  in  Spain.  These  gentlemen  have  arrived 
at  Paris.  This  voyage  has  been  long  projected 
—  their  success  has  been  quite  equal  to  their  ex 
pectations  ;  there  being  but  little  wind,  they  did 
not  make  so  quick  a  voyage  as  some  others  have 
done.  Mr.  B.  is  a  Frenchman,  Dr.  J.  an  Ameri 
can. 

Wednesday,  12th  January.  To-day  papa  car 
ried  mamma  and  myself  to  see  two  churches, 
Notre  Dame  and  St.  Sulpice  ;  these  are  two  of  the 
finest  in  Paris.  The  churches  in  this  country 
are  superior  in  point  of  grandeur,  magnificence, 
and  elegance,  to  any  other  buildings  they  have; 
these  were  very  beautiful.  I  had  not  time  to  no 
tice  them, or  knowledge  sufficient  to  describe  them. 
We  went  also  to  see  the  Enfans  Trouves :  this 
claimed  my  attention  more  than  the  churches. 
Louis  14th,  by  a  declaration  of  an  order  of  his 
counsel,  authorized  the  establishment  of  this  hos 
pital,  which  is  attended  by  some  religious  order 
called  Charity  Sisters,  who  oversee  it.  This  house 
was  built  in  the  year  1747.  All  new  born  chil 
dren  are  received  here,  at  all  hours,  night  and  day, 
4* 


42  JOURNAL. 

without  question  or  formality ;  during  the  day 
they  are  received  at  the  door ;  during  the  night  the 
sisters  watch  to  receive  them;  their  number 
amounts  to  more  than  six  thousand  every  year. 
In  the  hall  of  this  house  there  are  an  hundred  cra 
dles  to  receive  the  infants.  There  are  always  four 
nurses  in  this  .house,  who  nurse  them  until  they 
can  be  put  out  to  nurse,  where  they  keep  them 
until  they  are  five  years  old.  On  their  return 
they  are  conducted  to  another  house  upon  the 
same  plan,  and  connected  with  this,  where  they 
are  taught  to  read  and  write  ;  the  boys  to  knit,  and 
the  girls  to  embroider,  and  make  lace,  till  the  age 
of  13,  when  they  take  their  first  communion  ; 
then  they  are  put  to  trades. 

There  was  a  chapel  which  we  did  not  see  ; 
there  are  two  chaplains  who  belong  to  it,  who 
are  aided  by  enfans  who  sing  the  service. 

We  saw  the  hall  where  they  are  first  received, 
and  the  hundred  cradles.  The  sister  who  governed 
here,  seemed  a  well-bred,  intelligent  person ;  her 
dress  was  that  of  a  nun,  her  countenance  was 
expressive  of  all  that  was  amiable  —  sensibility 
and  sweetness  were  predominant.  She  told  us 
there  had  .been  received  more  than  six  thousand 
the  last  year ;  they  had  fifteen  thousand  at  nurse 
in  the  country,  under  five  years  old  ;  she  had  re 
ceived  since  the  first  of  January,  and  this  was 
only  the  12th,  two  hundred;  that  about  one-third 


JOURNAL.  43 

died  every  year.  Sometimes,  she  said,  they  were 
so  cold  and  stiffened  that  they  could  not  recover 
them.  It  was  amazing  to  me  how  they  could 
keep  a  room  with  such  a  number,  either  decent, 
or  otherwise  than  disagreeable.  I  can  truly  say 
I  never  saw  a  room  in  better  order  or  neatness ; 
the  cradles  were  all  round  the  room,  and  two 
rows  down  the  middle  ;  each  one  shone  like  ma 
hogany,  and  the  beds  looked  as  neat  as  possible. 
The  poor  little  things  were  some  asleep,  others 
crying,  and  some  without  any  appearance  of  life. 
She  showed  us  several  that  had  been  brought  in 
this  day,  and  one  that  had  been  baptized  that 
morning.  While  we  were  looking  at  them,  and 
considering  their  helpless  situation,  unprotected 
by  those  to  whom  they  owed  their  lives,  another 
was  brought  in  to  add  to  the  number;  this  ap 
peared  about  three  months  old.  There  came  with 
it  a  paper,  stating  the  death  of  its  mother.  The 
motto  of  the  house  is  :  "  My  father  and  my  moth 
er  have  forsaken  me,  but  the  Lord  hath  taken 
care  of  me." 

"  This  Institution  of  Charity  Sisters,  owes  its 
foundation  to  Madame  le  Gras.  Few  establish 
ments  are  equally  useful ;  the  benevolent  cares  of 
these  pious  women,  make  them  attend  upon  the 
poor  and  their  children  ;  they  afford  great  relief  in 
their  parishes,  and  every  where  ;  they  make  their 
vows  yearly,  and  have  it  in  their  power  to  leave 


44  JOURNAL. 

them  when  they  please.  Their  chapel  is  remark 
able  for  its  extreme  simplicity  and  neatness  — at 
the  foot  of  the  altar,  is  the  tomb  of  its  foundress, 
Madame  le  Gras." 

20th.  Mamma  and  myself  went  to  Paris,  and 
paid  a  visit  to  Mrs.  B.  in  the  Palais  Royal ;  we 
have  not  seen  her  before  since  she  moved.  I  was 
quite  as  much  pleased  with  her  as  ever,  and  must 
confess  that  she  has  excellencies  that  overbalance 
every  want  of  judgment,  or  that  love  for  gay  life, 
which  is  very  conspicuous  in  her,  but  which  I  do 
not  wonder  at,  at  all.  It  is  united  with  so  many 
agreeable  and  amiable  qualities,  that  it  is  impossi 
ble  not  to  admire  her.  They  are  really  domestic, 
and  the  principles  of  affection  and  domestic  hap 
piness  are  so  very  apparent,  that  I  never  see  them 
that  I  do  not  gain  a  higher  opinion  of  that  state, 
in  which  I  believe  one  may  most  enjoy  it. 

I  often  think  of  a  speech  of  Gov.  Pownall's 
when  he  was  here  some  time  since.  I  thank 
Heaven,  said  he,  I  have  no  habits.  Method 
is  an  acquisition  that  saves  people  much  trouble ; 
but  when  too  scrupulously  attended  to,  leads  to 
such  a  degree  of  regularity,  that  sometimes  become 
troublesome.  This  degree  should  be  avoided  as 
much  as  possible,  as  people  would  wish  to  relieve 
their  friends  from  a  disagreeable  situation ;  but 
how  I  came  upon  this  subject  here  I  know  not. 

January  27th.     A  small  company  to  dine  to- 


JOURNAL.  45 

day ;  the  Abbe  Arneau,  Mr.  Dash  a  Swedish 
gentleman,  Col.  H.,  and  Mr.  Jefferson  ;  Miss  J.  we 
expected;  but  the  news  of  the  death  of  one  of  Mr. 
J.'s  children  in  America,  brought  by  the  Marquis 
de  la  Fayette,  prevented.  Mr.  J.  is  a  man  of 
great  sensibility,  and  parental  affection.  His  wife 
died  when  this  child  was  born,  and  he  was  almost 
in  a  confirmed  state  of  melancholy  ;  confined  him 
self  from  the  world,  and  even  from  his  friends,  for  a 
lonsr  time  ;  and  this  news  has  greatly  affected  him 
and  his  daughter.  She  is  a  sweet  girl,  delicacy  and 
sensibility  are  read  in  every  feature,  and  her  man 
ners  are  in  unison  with  all  that  is  amiable  and 
lovely;  she  is  very  young.  Col.  H.  has  taken  the 
most  effectual  means  of  gaining1  my  good  opinion; 
no  more  reflections  upon  the  stiffness  of  his  man 
ners  must  proceed  from  me  ;  he  presented  me  to 
day  with  a  copy  of  a  poem  written  by  himself, 
and  addressed  to  the  army,  while  he  was  Aid  de 
Camp  to  Genera]  Washington,  which  he  has  had 
printed  since  he  came  to  Paris.  I  confess  I  had 
not  formed  an  idea  of  his  being  a  poet.  This  was 
no  doubt  owing  to  my  want  of  penetration.  It 
is  well  written,  and  the  verse  is  easy. 

Mr.  S.  grows  very  sociable  and  pleasant.  He  ap 
pears  a  well-bred  man.  without  the  least  formality, 
or  affectation  of  any  kind.  He  converses  with 
ease,  and  says  many  good  things.  He  wants  to 
go  to  a  convent  to  learn  French.  The  abbe, 


46  JOURNAL. 

upon  my  inquiring-to-day  after  Mademoiselle  Lu 
cille,  told  me  she  had  gone  to  a  convent  ;  and 
added,  that  the  manners  of  the  women  of  this 
country  were  so  dissipated,  and  the  example  they 
set  their  daughters  was  so  bad,  that  they  were 
obliged  to  put  them  into  convents,  to  keep  them 
out  of  this  influence.  This  may  be  generally  true, 
but  the  abbe  has  a  most  detestable  idea  of  the  women 
of  this  country,  perhaps  justly  ;  but  I  do  not  see 
how  they  can  be  otherwise  :  the  manner  of  edu 
cation,  and  above  all,  the  shocking  manner  in 
which  they  are  sacrificed,  in  the  most  sacred  of 
all  connections  ;  oftentimes  nothing  but  incon 
stancy  and  wickedness  can  result  from  it. 

Sunday,  30th  Jan.,  1785.  This  eve  Monsieur 
la  Marquis  de  la  Fayette  called  upon  us,  for  the 
first  time  since  he  arrived.  I  had  neglected  to  be 
properly  dressed  to-day,  and  was  punished  by  not 
having  it  in  my  power  to  see  him.  He  gave  rny 
papa  and  mamma  agreeable  accounts  of  our  State, 
and  of  Boston  in  particular;  he  says  it  is  the  best 
regulated,  and  he  observed  the  most  harmony 
and  agreement  in  the  people,  of  any  of  the  States  ; 
he  had  visited  all.  He  tells  us  Mr.  King  is  chosen 
member  of  Congress. 

February  7th.  To-day  we  dined  with  Mr.  Jef 
ferson.  He  invited  us  to  come  and  see  all  Paris, 
which  was  to  be  seen  in  the  streets  to-day,  and 
many  masks,  it  being  the  last  day  but  one,  of  the 


JOURNAL.  47 

Carnival,  and  to  go  to  the  mask  ball  in  the  even 
ing;  which  we  did  not  attend.  I  had  but  little 
cariosity  to  go  ;  the  description  of  those  who  have 
seen  it,  has  not  given  me  spirit  enough  to  spend 
all  the  night  to  be  perhaps  not  gratified.  The 
ball  begins  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and 
lasts  until  six.  There  are  no  characters  support 
ed  at  them  here,  as  in  England,  nor  are  there  any 
variety  in  the  dresses.  Mrs.  B.  says  it  is  the  only 
amusement  that  is  not  superior  here,  to  what  they 
have  in  London.  She  is  so  delighted  with  Paris, 
that  she  says  she  shall  never  go  to  America  with 
her  own  consent;  she  expects  to  be  carried,  in  the 
spring.  I  confess  I  cannot  form  an  idea  of  this 
disposition.  She  has,  I  believe,  by  this  time,  laid 
the  foundation  of  a  future  life  of  unhappiness. 
Miss  Jefferson  dined  with  us  —  no  other  company. 

February  14th.  To-day  we  have  dined  with 
Dr.  Franklin  ;  there  was  a  large  company  :  our 
family,  the  Marquis  de  la  Fayette  and  lady,  Lord 
Mount  Morris  an  Irish  volunteer,  Dr.  Jeffries, 
Mr.  Paul  Jones.  The  Dr.'s  family  consists  of 
himself,  Mrs.  Hewson  an  English  lady,  Mr.  F., 
Mr.  Beach  his  grandson,  Mr.  Williams  who  is 
generally  there.  Mr.  Jefferson  has  not  been  out 
to  dine  this  long  time.  The  Marquis  de  la  Fay 
ette  1  never  saw  before  ;  he  appears  a  little  re 
served,  and  very  modest. 

Lord  Mount  Morris  attracted  my  attention  ;  he 


48  JOURNAL. 

is  a  very  handsome  man,  a  fine  person,  and  an 
agreeable  countenance.  He  looked  inquiring, 
but  Madam  B.,  who  is  well  acquainted  with  his 
lordship,  engrossed  all  his  attention.  There  was 
another  Irish  gentleman  who  was  passable.  Dr. 
Jeffries,  the  man  of  the  day,  I  happened  to  be  seat 
ed  next  at  table.  I  made  some  inquiries  respect 
ing  his  late  voyage  aeriel  ;  he  did  not  seem  fond 
of  speaking  of  it;  he  said  he  felt  no  difference 
from  his  height  in  the  air,  but  that  the  air  was 
finer,  and  obliged  them  to  breathe  oftener,  and  that 
it  was  very  cold.  He  has  been  so  cavilled  at  in 
the  papers,  that  I  don't  wonder  at  his  reluctance 
at  conversing  upon  the  subject. 

We  had  a  sumptuous  dinner  —  it  is  now  Lent, 
and  all  the  French  are  doomed  to  fish.  Our 
French  servants  have  purchased  themselves  dis 
pensations  for  eating  meat,  because  they  live  with 
us.  However  improbable  this  may  appear,  it  is  a 
fact  if  they  speak  the  truth. 

Madame  the  Marquise  de  la  Fayette  was  quite 
sociable  with  papa,  and  professed  to  be  a  physiog 
nomist.  She  would  not  allow  that  1  was  triste, 
but  grave. 

We  have  a  tableau  of  Paris,  which  is  a  descrip 
tion  of  Paris ;  and  if  it  is  a  true  picture,  a  most  la 
mentable  one.  I  would  not  exclaim  against  a 
people  of  whom  I  know  so  little,  otherwise  than 
from  hearsay —  as  I  do  of  this —  yet  plain  facts  as- 


JOURNAL.  49 

tonish  me  sometimes.  Well  might  Mr.  Jefferson 
say,  that  no  man  was  fit  to  come  abroad  until  35, 
unless  he  were  under  some  person's  care. 

21st  February.  Dined  at  the  Marquis  de  la 
Fayette's  with  a  circle  of  Americans.  It  was  in- 
tendended  as  a  compliment ;  but  I  had  rather  it 
had  been  thought  so  to  introduce  us  to  French 
company.  The  fondness  that  Madame  la  Marquise 
discovers  for  her  children,  is  very  amiable;  and 
the  more  remarkable  in  a  country  where  the  least 
trait  of  such  a  disposition  is  scarce  known.  She 
seems  to  adore  them,  and  to  live  but  in  them.  She 
has  two  that  were  presented  to  us ;  they  both 
speak  English,  and  sing  it ;  the  Marquis  appeared 
very  fond  of  them  likewise.  He  is  apparently  a 
man  of  great  modesty,  and  delicacy  of  manners. 

Speaking  of  Mrs.  Jay,  on  whom  every  person 
who  knew  her  when  here  bestows  many  enco 
miums,  Madame  de  la  Fayette  said,  she  was  well 
acquainted  "with,  and  very  fond  of  Mrs.  Jay  ;  she 
added,  Mrs.  Jay  and  she  thought  alike :  it  was 
Mrs.  Jay's  sentiment,  that  pleasure  might  be  found 
abroad  —  but  happiness  could  only  be  found  at 
home  —  in  the  society  of  one's  family  and  friends. 
She  told  my  papa  that  Mrs.  Jay  did  not  like  the 
French  ladies — neither  do  I,  said  she.  From  the 
account  she  had  heard  of  the  American  ladies,  she 
believed  she  should  be  pleased  with  them  —  and 
should  the  Marquis  ever  again  visit  America,  she 
5 


50  JOURNAL. 

would  accompany  him.  I  was  seated  at  table, 
between  Mr.  B.  and  the  Irish  gentleman  whose 
name  I  have  forgotten  ;  he  was  very  civil,  but 
nothing  very  remarkable  in  him ;  Mr.  B.  was  in- 
supportably  disagreeable.  I  cannot  but  dislike 
his  manners  in  general ;  to  his  wife  they  are  bet 
ter  than  any  man  I  have  known.  Mrs.  B.  was 
as  ever>  engaging.  The  elegance  of  her  dress  de 
mands  a  description ;  a  black  velvet  dress  with 
pink  satin  sleeves  and  stomacher,  a  pink  satin 
petticoat,  and  over  it  a  skirt  of  white  crape,  spot 
ted  all  over  with  gray  fur ;  the  sides  of  the  gown 
open  in  front,  and  bottom  of  the  coat  trimmed 
with  paste ;  it  was  superb,  and  the  gracefulness 
of  the  person  made  it  appear  to  peculiar  advan 
tage.  To  avoid  singularity,  and  the  observation 
of  the  company  she  goes  into,  she  wears  more 
rouge  than  is  advantageous  to  her ;  I  was  pleased 
with  a  little  upon  her,  but  she  has  become  quite  a 
French  woman  in  this  respect.  We  came  home 
without  going  to  the  play. 

Feb.  22d.  Papa  went  to  Versailles,  Col.  H. 
and  Mr.  S.  accompanied  him  ;  the  latter  he  intro 
duced  at  court.  They  came  out  and  breakfasted 
with  us. 

Feb.  26th.  To-day  Dr.  Franklin,  Mr.  Williams, 
and  a  Monsieur  St.  Olympia,  a  French  West  In 
dian,  dined  with  us ;  the  latter  has  been  writing 
upon  the  trade  of  the  Americans  with  the  West 


JOURNAL.  51 

Indies  ;  papa  breakfasted  with  him  on  Thursday. 
He  brought  a  book  on  politics  for  papa  to  look  at, 
and  inquired  if  the  ladies  in  America  talked  poli 
tics?  Papa  told  him  they  conversed  much  upon 
politics,  and  that  the  liberties  of  a  country  depend 
ed  upon  the  ladies. 

March  3d.  My  brother  and  myself  went  to  the 
Italian  comedy,  to  see  Richard  Coeur  de  Lion,  a 
piece  that  has  been  played  twenty  times,  and  has 
had  great  success.  It  is  founded  upon  English 
history ;  there  were  some  admirable  scenes  in  it, 
and  they  were  well  acted ;  the  music  was  excel 
lent.  It  will  not  do  to  see  any  dancing  after  that 
at  the  opera,  which  exceeds  every  thing  in  the 
world.  I  have  heard  it  observed  that  the  art  of 
dancing  is  carried  to  greater  perfection  in  this 
country,  than  any  other  of  the  arts. 

March  5th,  1785.  To-day  we  have  had  a  small 
company  to  dine  —  all  Americans.  Col.  H.  and 
Mr.  Williams,  who  is  a  man  who  seems  to  derive 
a  great  degree  of  pleasure  from  being  useful  to  his 
friends,  and  omits  no  opportunity  to  exert  his 
power  to  their  advantage ;  he  has  been  very  civil 
to  us  in  many  things.  He  knows  the  disadvan 
tages  of  being  in  a  country  where  one  is  an  entire 
stranger  to  the  usages  and  customs,  and  when  he 
can  serve  his  acquaintances  who  are  in  such  a 
situation,  he  is  gratified  to  do  it.  I  do  not  know 
what  we  shall  do  when  he  goes  from  Paris. 


52  JOURNAL. 

Mrs.  B.  came  out  to  make  us  a  visit  and  drank 
tea  —  the  bloom  of  the  rose  is  fading  —  dissipation 
will  blast  the  fairest  flower  that  ever  bloomed  ;  in 
her  it  is  verified  ;  'tis  a  pity  so  much  delicacy  and 
beauty  should  be  sacrificed  to  a  few  weeks  of  plea 
sure.  They  leave  Paris  in  two  months,  to  resume 
their  travels,  first  to  Switzerland,  then  to  Italy,  in 
the  course  of  the  present  year. 

The  Tableau  de  Paris,  written  by  Monsieur  de 
Mercier,  in  six  volumes,  gives  a  very  particular 
description  of  every  thing  that  can  be  found  in 
Paris — I  had  almost  said  in  France.  It  is  very 
entertaining;  he  has  lashed  where  he  disapproved, 
and  is  just,  it  is  said,  upon  every  thing.  When  he 
published  his  work,  which  he  did  without  the  ap 
probation  of  the  King,  he  was  sought  for,  and  the 
book-seller  was  taken  up.  When  the  author  found 
this  was  the  case,  he  went  to  the  lieutenant  of  po 
lice,  and  told  him  he  was  himself  the  author. 
This  openness  of  conduct,  it  is  said,  only  saved 
him  from  being  banished.  The  police  made  him 
a  compliment  upon  his  work,  but  he  was  soon 
obliged  to  leave  the  kingdom,  and  it  is  probable 
can  never  return.  Thus  it  is,  when  a  man  speaks 
truth  in  this  country  he  is  banished  from  it. 

Monday,  7th  March.  To-day  dined  with  the 
Marquis  de  la  Fayette  ;  the  same  company  we 
had  before,  and  the  day  was  passed  in  much  the 


JOURNAL.  53 

same  way.     I  was  seated  again,  next  to  the  Irish 
gentleman. 

March  9th.  To-day  we  went  to  Paris  in  the 
morning,  and  Mr.  Williams  went  with  us  to  see 
the  gallery  of  pictures  belonging  to  the  Duke  de 
Chartres,  in  the  Palais  Royal.  As  the  young 
princes,  his  children,  were  with  their  drawing 
master,  we  were  not  permitted  to  go  through  the 
house,  and  were  obliged  to  pass  through  the  court; 
thus  little  people  must  submit  to  greater.  The 
gallery  is  very  long,  and  there  are  two  other 
rooms,  all  hung  with  pictures,  by  some  of  the 
first  painters  ;  Raphael,  Rubens,  Michel  Angelo, 
and  others.  They  were  in  general  Scripture 
pieces  ;  and  many  repetitions  of  the  same  thing. 
There  was  a  descent  from  the  cross,  which  is  said 
to  be  one  of  the  finest  pictures  now  existing.  I 
cannot  form  an  idea  of  more  expression  in  any 
thing,  than  is  here  depicted  ;  the  same  passions 
are  represented  variously,  and  equally  admirable 
in  all.  There  were  several  of  Mary  with  the  child 
Jesus,  that  were  fine ;  in  all  I  observed  that  she 
was  drawn  with  red  hair.  But  there  was  a  head 
of  St.  John,  that  struck  me  more  than  all  the  rest ; 
the  eyes  were  looking  up,  the  countenance  ap 
peared  rather  feminine ;  but  there  was  a  sweet 
ness,  calmness,  and  serenity,  that  charmed  me  ; 
there  are  but  few  pictures  that  have  pleased  me 
more.  There  was  a  representation  of  the  judg- 
5* 


54  JOURNAL. 

ment  of  Paris,  with  Juno,  Minerva,  and  Yenus ; 
I  was  not  particularly  pleased  with  this.  Indeed, 
there  is  a  disagreeable  sensation  mixed  with  the 
pleasure  I  derive  from  my  view  of  paintings,  that 
I  have  yet  seen  in  Europe :  though  I  find  the  im 
pression  is  not  so  forcible  as  it  was  at  first.  But  even 
now  I  turn  involuntarily  aside,  sometimes  when 
others  are  admiring;  perhaps  it  is  an  affectation, 
yet  I  do  not  believe  that  it  is  not  a  better  principle. 
There  were  many  others,  deserving  attention;  but 
when  such  a  variety  is  presented  to  the  view,  it  is 
impossible  to  retain  a  just  idea  of  all ;  we  see  one 
and  admire  it,  but  when  we  see  many  others  wor 
thy  of  attention,  the  first  is  hardly  retained  ;  I 
always  find  it  so,  and  always  wish  to  devote  more 
time  to  them,  than  it  is  possible  to  do.  The  Duke 
de  Chartres  has  also  made  a  collection  of  the 
models  of  all  trades,  and  has  them  in  glass  cases. 
This  man,  with  all  his  possessions,  and  with  every 
thing  in  his  power  to  possess,  but  the  disposition 
to  be  made  happy  by  them,  goes  to  England  to 
associate  with  the  Prince  of  Wales,  and  to  seek 
the  pleasure  which  he  cannot  find  within  the 
compass  of  his  own  possessions,  in  his  own  coun 
try.  Such  is  human  nature. 

We  went  to  see  Mademoiselle  Bertang.  who  is 
milliner  to  the  Glueen  of  France  and  to  all  Eu 
rope.  She  is  now  employed  in  making  clothes 
for  F  infante  d'  Espagne,  and  the  Princess  of  Por- 


JOURNAL.  55 

tugal.  The  former  is  to  be  demanded  the  28th 
of  the  present  month,  in  marriage,  by  the  Prince 
of  Portugal ;  she  is  now  ten  years  old  ;  the  clothes 
are  very  rich  and  superb ;  but  we  did  not  see  the 
best,  as  they  are  sent  off  as  soon  as  finished.  We 
saw  the  dress  which  she  wore  at  court.  Made 
moiselle  Bertang  has  lately  received  orders  for 
unlimited  credit  upon  the  court  of  Spain,  for  these 
things ;  it  is  said  she  will  not  clear  less  than  five 
or  six  thousand  guineas.  She  is  the  first  milliner 
in  Europe  ;  every  year  she  sends  the  fashions  to 
all  parts  of  the  world.  We  went  to  a  large  room, 
where  there  were  twenty  girls  at  work  ;  the  hotel 
seemed  to  be  large  and  full. 

Saturday,  12th  March.  To-morrow  commen 
ces  Semaine  Salute,  Holy  Week.  But  this  people 
could  not  exist,  if  they  had  not  some  amusement 
or  diversion  ;  there  will  be  a  Concert  Spirituel 
every  night,  and  the  fete  of  Long-Champ  occupies 
three  days.  A  few  years  since,  upon  one  of  these 
days,  there  appeared  one  of  the  girls  who  dance 
at  the  opera,  in  a  carriage  with  servants  ;  her  whole 
equippage  superior  to  any  other  present,  or  to 
the  Queen's.  The  wheels  of  her  carriage  were 
washed  with  silver,  and  her  horses  were  shod  with 
silver ;  every  thing  was  in  uniformity  with  this. 
The  next  day  the  queen  sent  her  word,  if  she  ever 
apppeared  in  such  a  manner  again,  she  should  be 
taken  care  of.  Whether  this  was  not  descending 


56  JOURNAL. 

from  the  dignity  we  should  suppose  in  the  char 
acter  of  the  Queen  of  France,  I  will  not  decide. 

Monday,  14th.  We  had  a  large  company  to 
dine,  the  Marquis  de  la  Fayette  and  lady,  the 
Chevalier  de  la  Luzerne,  Mr.  Brandsonthe  Dutch 
Ambassador  Extraordinary,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  B. ;  the 
latter  has  a  great  share  of  grace,  united  with  a  vi 
vacity  that  is  enchanting,  but  without  much  dig 
nity;  grace  depends  upon  the  person,  actions,  and 
manners  ;  dignity  is  placed  in  the  mind  ;  the  latter 
she  has  not ;  she  is  nevertheless,  a  charming  wo 
man. 

16th.     Mamma  and  myself  went  to  Paris  and 

visited  Mrs. ;    there  is  something  in  this 

woman  that  pleases  me  very  much  ;  it  calls  forth 
my  compassion,  and  I  feel  that  she  is  unhappy. 
There  is  so  much  of  that  tenderness  and  sensibility 
that  is  seldom  discoved  after  the  romance  of  affec 
tion  is  a  little  dissapated  about  her,  that  con 
vinces  me  —  it  is  not  an  ideal  and  imaginary  sen 
timent,  as  some  have  said  but  which  I  never  be 
lieved  —  there  is  more  expression  in  her  silence, 
than  in  ten  thousand  complaints  that  I  have  heard 
from  some  people.  Her  children  are  all  amiable 
and  lovely.  We  spent  an  hour  with  her  before 
other  company  came.  Mrs.  R.  was  accompanied 
by  a  Mr.  West,  who  was  introduced  to  us,  by  a 
Mr.  Jackson.  He  was  out  this  morning  to  visit 
us,  but  I  was  dressing  and  could  not  see  him. 


JOURNAL. 


57 


17.  Dined  to-day  at  Dr.  Franklin's  ;  the  whole 
company  were  Americans,  except  an  old  man, 
Monsieur  Brillian,  who  is  a  friend  of  the  Dr.,  and 
who  came  as  he  said,  "  a  demander  un  dine  a  Pere 
Franklin"  His  wife,  it  is  said,  is  one  of  the  hand 
somest  women  in  France.  This  man  is  perhaps 
60  years  old ;  his  hair  is  white  from  age,  but  he 
is  not  venerable  ;  he  possesses  neither  wit  or 
reason,  but  has  a  great  propensity  for  talking,  and 
from  his  manners,  I  suppose,  thinks  he  has  a  natu 
ral  turn  for  satire,  when  in  reality  he  has  no 
more  than  his  horse.  Reader,  pardon  the  com 
parison  ;  of  the  man  I  ask  none. 

March  20th.  Well  might  the  Abbe  Arneau 
say  that  people  in  this  country  put  their  children 
into  convents  to  keep  them  out  of  the  influence 

of  their  manners.     Mrs. told  me  last  Monday 

when  she  dined  here,  she  was  going  to  pass  the 
eve  with  Madame  la  Marquise  de  Buillye,  and,  ad 
ded  she,  I  suppose  I  shall  play  cards  there  till  the 
morning.  She  said  she  was  there  the  last  day  of 
the  Carnival,  and  she  staid  until  two  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  then  came  away  leaving  the  com 
pany  at  cards ;  that  a  gentleman  who  was  of  the 
party,  called  upon  her  the  next  day  at  ten,  and 
assured  her  when  he  came  away  he  left  the  com 
pany  at  play  ;  she  told  me  that  the  Marquis  de  B. 
went  to  bed,  rose  the  next  morning,  went  in  full 


58  JOURNAL. 

dress  to  pay  his  wife  a  visit,  and  found  the  com 
pany  as  he  had  left  them  !     What  a  picture  ! 

She  adds,  that  there  are  five  ladies  and  some 
gentlemen,  who  are  of  that  particular  party  ;  they 
meet  at  each  other's  houses  five  nights  in  the 
week,  as  constantly  as  the  week  passes  ;  that  four 
nights  they  play  till  morning ;  the  other  two 
nights  they  reserve  for  other  parties  ;  that  they  go 
to  the  play  in  the  forepart  of  the  evening,  and 
after  the  play  or  opera  is  over,  they  meet.  She 
said  she  knew  a  gentleman  who  was  of  all  their 
parties,  and  that  it  was  inconceivable  the  money 
he  had  lost  this  winter  at  play  with  them.  These 
are  the  wives'  parties.  The  husbands  meet  at  their 
public  clubs,  and  have  gamed  until  it  was  pro 
hibited  by  the  king  lately.  There  are  two  of 
these,  the  saloons,  and  the  arcander,  where  the 
first  and  principal  men  of  the  kingdom  meet 
every  night ;  they  have  the  public  papers,  and  all 
the  news,  and  a  supper,  and  used  to  play,  till  for 
bidden.  There  must  be  a  formal  reception,  for 
which  they  pay  a  certain  sum.  These  clubs  are 
not  approved  of  by  the  government  of  this  coun 
try,  and  it  is  said  they  would  be  forbidden.  But 
what  a  portrait  of  real  life  !  —  who  could  be  in 
duced  to  believe  that  human  beings  sacrificed 
their  time  and  lives  to  such  practices,  if  they 
were  not  assured  of  the  truth  of  it?  The  picture 
Swift  has  drawn  of  a  fashionable  lady,  1  now  be- 


JOURNAL.  59 

lieve  verily  true  in  every  iota ;  these  are  the  peo 
ple,  and  these  are  the  manners,  that  my  father 
will  not  introduce  us  to  ;  there  are  a  few  excep 
tions,  the  Marquis  de  la  Fayette  and  family.  I 
have  heard  madame  the  marquise  say,  that  she  sel 
dom  went  out  except  into  her  family  connections. 
I  suppose  the  true  reason  is  that  the  company  she 
would  go  into  would  be  of  this  sort,  and  it  would 
not  be  agreeable  to  her.  I  have  heard  her  express 
her  disapprobation  of  gaming,  or  indeed  of  play  ; 
even  Mrs.  B.  is  not  so  pleased  with  it  as  when  she 
first  arrived.  As  an  American  lady,  she  might  al 
ways  have  excused  herself  from  playing,  if  she 

had  wished  it,  "but,"  said  Mrs. ,  "I  became 

fond  of  it,  before  the  winter  was  over,  and  have 
won  sometimes  twenty  guineas  of  an  evening." 
Of  all  practices,  this  is  to  me  the  most  detest 
able. 

There  is  scarce  a  greater  offence  against  deli 
cacy  possible  to  be  committed,  than  to  go  into 
company  with  a  little  powder  upon  your  face  ;  it 
is  almost  the  criterion  of  indecency ;  but  at  the 
same  time,  a  lady  will  put  an  ounce  or  two  of 
rouge  upon  her  face,  and  even  think  she  is  not 
dressed  without  it. 

Mr.  Williams  told  me  an  anecdote.  When  he 
first  arrived  in  Paris,  a  friend  of  his  accompanied 
him  to  dine  with  a  lady  of  his  acquaintance.  The 
first  thing  that  struck  him  was  being  introduced 


60  JOURNAL, 

to  the  ladies'  bed-chamber,  which  is  here  as  usual 
as  it  is  to  visit.  The  lady  was  rather  in  a  disha 
bille,  except  her  head  which  was  highly  dressed. 
When  dinner  was  served,  they  went  into  another 
room  ;  after  dining,  they  returned  again  to  the 
lady's  bed-chamber ;  a  gentleman  in  company, 
took  from  the  table  an  orange ;  while  the  rest  of 
the  company  were  taking  their  coffee,  he  was  eat 
ing  his  orange  —  and,  unfortunately,  happened  to 
put  the  peel  upon  the  side  of  the  chimney  piece, 
and  after  a  little  time  went  away  as  is  usual  in 
this  country,  without  taking  leave.  Sometime 
after  he  was  gone,  the  lady  called  her  servant  and 
inquired  for  this  gentlemen  ;  the  servant  told  her 
he  had  gone,  but  he  had  heard  him  order  his  ser 
vants  to  drive  him  to  such  an  hotel.  She  ordered 
her  servant  to  go  and  request  the  gentleman  to 
return,  for  she  wished  to  see  him  ;  in  less  than  an 
hour  the  gentleman  returned,  begging  to  know 
her  commands  —  when  she  called  her  servant  and 
ordered  him  to  take  that  orange  peel  away. 
This,  said  Mr.  W.,  completed  my  wonder  and  as 
tonishment. 

When  I  dined  at  Dr.  Franklin's  last  Thursday, 
I  asked  Mr.  F.  by  whom  I  was  seated  at  table, 
whether  the  image  in  the  centre  of  it  represented 
any  particular  device,  as  I  observed  a  crown  of 
laurel  and  some  figures  ?  — he  said  "  he  believed 
it  was  Love  and  Hymen,  an  old  fashioned  idea 


JOURNAL.  61 

you  know,"  said  he  ;  "  they  used  to  talk  of  such 
things  in  former  times,  but  at  present  they  know 
better."  I  told  him  I  was  surprised  to  find  it  at 
his  table,  I  believed  it  was  not  of  his  choice.  He 
is  strongly  attached  to  the  French.  He  told  me 
he  preferred  an  English  lady  who  had  acquired 
the  graces  of  French  manners ;  which,  he  added, 
were  to  be  gained  no  where  but  at  Paris  —  that 
was  the  centre,  and  there  they  were  all  collected 
and  resided.  I  believe  he  was  here  right ;  there 
is  a  something  not  to  be  defined,  that  the  French 
women  possess,  which,  when  it  ornaments  and 
adorns  an  English  lady,  forms  something  irresisti 
bly  charming. 

24th  March.  This  is  Holy  Week,  and  to-day 
it  is,  that  the  King  and  Q,ueen  wash  the  feet  of 
twelve  children,  and  give  them  a  dinner  ;  when 
all  the  princes  of  the  blood"  serve  the  dinner,  and 
the  King  and  Queen  tend  them  at  table.  The 
same  ceremony  is  performed  in  the  churches  by 
the  archbishop  and  the  priests.  We  went  to  St. 
Sulpice  ;  what  a  spectacle  did  the  Church  present ! 
two  hundred  of  the  dirtiest  creatures  I  ever  be 
held.  The  priests  were  in  their  robes,  but  shame 
fully  dirty ;  they  had  a  dozen  little  boys  with 
purple  jackets,  and  purple  caps,  their  hair  shaved  ; 
then  followed  six  or  eight  black  friars  ;  they  were 
parading  the  Church,  first  into  one  Chapel  singing 
their  service.  We  went  down  several  stone  steps, 
6 


62  JOURNAL. 

into  a  place  they  call  the  sepulchre ;  there  were 
a  number  of  persons  at  their  devotions.  There  is 
nothing  more  surprising  than  the  manner  and 
form  with  which  these  people  address  the  Su 
preme  Being ;  I  do  not  understand  their  profes 
sions,  nor  do  I  form  any  judgment  of  it.  There 
is  in  this  Church,  a  beautiful  figure  in  white  mar 
ble  of  the  Virgin  Mary  and  the  child  Jesus  in  her 
arms.  It  is  impossible  to  imagine  a  figure  with 
more  expression ;  the  countenance  is  placid,  mild, 
and  sweet  beyond  description ;  we  staid  as  long 
as  it  was  possible,  but  came  away  without  seeing 
any  ceremony.  The  churches  are  very  disagree 
able  ;  the  windows  are  cased  with  iron  grates  ;  it 
is  impossible  for  the  sun  or  air  to  have  any  access  ; 
the  floors  are  all  of  stone  ;  they  are  excessively 
cold  and  damp ;  we  returned  to  Auteuil  by  the 
grand  route,  as  it  is  culled,  that  we  might  have  a 
view  of  the  carriages  at  Long-Champ ;  it  is  curi 
ous  to  observe  how  much  more  attended  this  was, 
than  the  churches.  The  foundation  of  it  was 
this ;  there  is  a  convent  of  women  at  the  village 
of  Long-Champ ;  they  had  some  very  fine  musi 
cians,  who  used  to  exhibit  on  those  three  days, 
which  drew  a  great  number  of  persons  to  hear  it ; 
the  convent  was  always  open  on  these  days,  and 
there  was  a  great  concourse  of  people.  But  in  a 
few  years  there  began  to  be  disturbances  corn  mi  t- 
ed,  and  the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  who  is  supreme 


JOURNAL.  63 

and  arbitrary,  ordered  the  convent  to  discontinue 
their  custom  ;  but  this  did  not  induce  the  Parisians 
to  deprive  themselves  of  their  amusement.  It  has 
continued  to  be  very  fashionable,  and  forms  three 
days  of  amusement  and  diversion  for  all  Paris  and 
its  environs.  There  were,  I  may  venture  to  say, 
a  thousand  carriages,  and  as  many  persons  walk 
ing  and  on  horseback  ;  it  was  cold,  and  as  mamma 
intended  seeing  them  to-morrow,  we  came  away 
soon,  before  indeed  half  the  carriages  had  ar 
rived. 

Friday  25th.  The  weather  was  rather  disa 
greeable  in  the  morning,  but  it  cleared  away  and 
permitted  us  to  go  to  Long-Champ,  where  there 
were  the  greatest  collection  of  carriages  that  I 
have  ever  seen  ;  there  were  none  particularly 
elegant.  There  were  great  numbers  on  horse 
back  ;  the  king's  pages  were  all  on  horseback  ; 
most  of  them  aped  the  English  in  their  dress  and 
appearance,  so  much  so,  as  to  deceive  the  specta 
tors,  many  of  them.  The  beaux  in  this  country 
aim  very  much  at  the  English  dress,  as  the  Eng 
lish  do  the  French ;  it  is  the  particular  aim  of 
each  to  appear  what  they  are  not.  When  a 
Frenchman  is  in  a  great  dishabille,  he  says  he  is 
a  la  Anglais.  We  joined  the  throng,  and  "drove 
twice  round  the  circle ;  after  we  had  seen  what 
there  was  to  be  seen,  we  went  to  take  tea  at  Dr. 
Franklin's  with  Mrs.  Hewson,  and  passed  an  hour 


64  JOURNAL. 

very  agreeably.  Mr.  F.  is  always  sociable,  and  is 
very  satirical  in  general.  He  reminds  me  of  a 
lady  famed  in  this  way,  whom  I  have  known  in 
America.  The  Dr.  is  always  silent,  unless  he 
has  some  diverting  story  to  tell,  of  which  he  has 
a  great  collection.  Mr.  F.  copies  him  in  this  way, 
and  although  he  tells  a  story  well,  yet  I  do  not 
think  it  a  pleasing  trait  in  the  character  of  a 
young  man  —  it  appears  better  in  age  ;  it  seems 
then  expressive  of  a  desire  to  be  agreeable  — 
which  in  old  age  is  not  always  attended  to.  The 
Dr.  has  something  so  venerable  in  his  appear 
ance,  that  he  inspires  one  with  respect.  I  never 
saw  an  old  man  more  so. 

Friday  eve,  March  27th.  As  we  were  sitting 
around  the  fire  about  9  o'clock,  we  heard  some 
guns,  which  we  supposed  were  to  announce  the 
birth  of  a  prince  or  princess.  On  Monday  morn 
ing  we  were  informed  of  the  birth  of  a  prince, 
whose  title  is  Duke  of  Normandy.  This  is  an 
event  which  occasions  great  joy  and  rejoicing 
throughout  the  kingdom,  particularly  in  Paris  and 
at  Versailles. 

29th.  Papa  went  to  Versailles,  it  being  Ambas 
sador's  Day  ;  upon  such  an  occasion  there  was 
much  company.  The  young  Duke  of  Normandy 
received  all  the  ambassadors  and  ministers,  though 
only  two  days  old ;  he  was  lying  on  a  bed,  and 
attended  by  two  or  three  ladies  ;  if  this  had  hap- 


JOURNAL.  65 

pened  to  have  been  a  princess,  she  would  have 
been  scarce  noticed.  The  Queen  is  to  see  no 
Company  for  five  days,  except  the  princesses  of 
the  royal  family.  As  soon  as  a  prince  is  born, 
he  has  a  house,  servant,  carriages,  horses,  tutors, 
governors  and  governesses,  and  every  other  at 
tendant  to  him,  while  he,  poor  thing,  is  insensi 
ble  to  every  thing.  The  whole  nation  are  taught 
to  look  upon  them  as  their  guardians  and  sup 
port.  In  a  government  such  as  this,  where  all 
power  and  authority  is  vested  in  the  King,  it  is 
undoubtedly  necessary  that  he  should  be  respect 
ed  from  the  moment  he  exists,  and  through  his 
life. 

30th.  Papa  dined  with  the  Spanish  Ambassador, 
together  with  a  number  of  great  folks ;  there  was  the 
Count  Deranda,  a  German  Prince.  He  introduced 
his  lady,  and  inquired  if  the  American  ladies  paint 
ed?  He  was  informed  they  did  not.  She  said  the 
Spanish  ladies  never  painted,  and  that  she  never 
did  unless  she  was  going  into  particular  French 
company. 

Yesterday  Madame  de  la  Fayette  wrote  a  very 
polite  card  to  mamma,  informing  her  that  the 
King  would  come  to-day  to  the  Church  of  Notre 
Dame  to  assist  in  the  Te  Deum,  which  would  be 
sung  in  that  Church,  to  return  thanks  for  the 
birth  of  a  prince ;  and  to  offer  us  places  in  her 
father's  tribune  at  the  Church,  and  to-day  we 
6* 


66  JOURNAL. 

went.  The  hour  she  appointed  us  to  meet  at  her 
house  was  two  o'clock  ;  we  dined  early  and  went. 
From  Auteuil  to  the  Barrier  we  met  a  number  of 
people  ;  but  from  the  Barrier  to  the  Marquis', 
and  from  thence  to  Notre  Dame  —  which  was  at 
least  three  miles  —  I  cannot  attempt  to  describe 
the  appearance  ;  every  street  was  so  crowded,  that 
had  it  not  been  for  the  police,  which  upon  every 
public  occasion  are  as  numerous  as  the  people  — 
they  are  obliged  to  be  very  strict  —  it  would  not 
have  been  possible  for  a  carriage  to  have  passed. 
I  believe  I  may  say  with  truth  there  were  millions 
of  people.  Mr.  Jefferson,  who  rode  from  the  Mar 
quis'  with  us,  supposed  there  were  as  many  peo 
ple  in  the  streets  as  there  were  in  the  State  of 
Massachusetts,  or  any  other  of  the  States.  Every 
house  was  full— every  window  and  door,  from  the 
bottom  to  the  top.  Before  the  Church  there  is  a 
large  square,  which  was  lined  with  troops,  drawn 
up  in  rows,  and  appeared  very  well.  The  Church 
of  Notre  Dame  is  of  very  ancient  architecture ; 
it  is  the  most  beautiful  building  I  have  seen. 
The  churches  have  no  pews,  but  are  filled  with 
chairs  and  benches.  There  are  a  variety  of  chap 
els  in  them,  in  which  there  always  is  a  represen 
tation  of  the  Virgin  Mary  and  the  child  Jesus. 
On  one  side  of  the  chapel  there  were  seats,  where 
all  the  judges  were  seated,  dressed  in  crimson  vel 
vet  robes,  and  large  wigs.  On  the  other  side 


JOURNAL.  .  67 

were  lawyers  in  black  habits  ;  their  dress  is  much 
the  same  as  in  our  country,  except  that  they  wear 
their  hair  long  behind,  and  without  being  tied, 
but  waving,  which  is  very  graceful. 

On  one  side  of  the  altar  were  a  number  of  ladies 
of  rank ;  on  the  other  side,  were  the  ambassadors 
and  public  ministers;  before  the  altar  we  re  placed 
seats,  and  under  a  canopy  was  a  crimson  velvet 
cushion,  and  seats  all  round  with  each  a  crimson 
velvet  cushion;  this  was  for  his  majesty  to  kneel 
upon.  There  were  the  bishops  with  the  archbishop 
at  their  head,  dressed  in  purple  robes,  with  skirts 
which  came  as  low  as  their  knees,  of  the  richest 
lace.  There  were  a  number  of  others  of  a  differ 
ent  order,  dressed  with  cloaks,  wrought  with  gold. 
Among  these  was  the  Abbe  de  Bourbon,  an  ille 
gitimate  son  of  Louis  15th.  He  appeared  to  be 
about  27  years  old,  a  very  handsome  man.  I  ob 
served  all  the  gentlemen  of  the  court  paid  partic 
ular  attention  to  him.  Madame  de  la  Fayette  ob 
served,  she  thought  it  was  too  magnificent,  and 
there  was  too  much  noise  and  bustle  for  the 
Church ;  she  said  it  was  not  peaceful  enough.  I 
was  charmed  with  her  behaviour  to  her  com 
pany  ;  the  Marquis  was  with  the  King ;  she 
had  to  arrange  the  company  when  we  went  to 
Church,  which  she  did,  paying  particular  attention 
to  every  one.  In  the  eve  the  whole  city  of  Paris 
was  illuminated.  Papa  was  here  at  the  first  cer- 


68  JOURNAL. 

emony  of  this  kind,  when  the  first  princess  was 
born.  The  decorations  at  that  time  were  superi 
or  to  this.  It  was  impossible  not  to  make  many 
reflections  upon  this  august  and  superb  ceremony, 
and  upon  the  sentiments  the  people  discovered 
for  their  King.  But  in  this  government  I  should 
judge  it  was  right  and  necessary.  If  the  man 
who  has  the  whole  kingdom  at  his  disposal,  is  not 
respected,  and  thought  of  next  to  their  God,  he 
will  not  long  sustain  his  power.  And  however 
wrong  it  may  be,  it  is  unavoidable. 

April  2d.  Mrs.  Hewston  and  Mr.  Franklin 
came  and  drank  tea  with  us.  We  went  in  the 
eve  to  the  Concert  Spirituel,  which  is  open  while 
the  theatres  are  all  shut;  and  upon  some  of  the 
fetes,  it  is  somewhat  triste.  The  music  is  called 
good.  There  is  some  part  of  all  the  vocal  music 
that  I  have  heard,  since  I  have  been  in  this  coun 
try,  that  sounds  to  my  ear  like  overstraining  the 
voice,  and  has  upon  me  an  unpleasant  effect. 
I  am  told  it  is  because  I  am  not  a  connoisseur 
that  it  does  not  please  me,  for  it  is  the  height 
of  perfection.  That  I  am  not  a  connoisseur  is  a 
truth  ;  nor  will  I  pretend  to  decide  upon  the  jus 
tice  of  other  people's  tastes,  because  my  own  does 
not  accord  with  them.  I  saw  many  things  that 
would  have  appeared  very  strange,  had  I  met 
with  them  a  few  months  since.  I  am  accustomed 


JOURNAL.  69 

to  many  things  at  present,  but  I  am  not  recon 
ciled  to  them. 

4th  April.  Dined  to-day  with  the  Marquis  de 
la  Fayette — our  circle  of  Americans  diminishes 
daily  —  there  were  a  number  of  French  gentle 
men,  most  of  whom  had  been  in  America,  and 
spoke  English ;  General  Armand,  Capt.  la  Tonch, 
and  Col.  G.,  who  I  believe  lives  at  the  Marquis'. 

General  A.  speaks  very  highly  of  our  state,  and 
of  Boston  in  particular  ;  most  foreigners  give  the 
preference  to  Boston,  to  all  parts  of  the  United 
States,  at  least  they  tell  us  so  ;  and  why  should  we 
not  believe  them  in  an  instance  so  favourable  to 
ourselves?  If  they  do  not  speak  the  sentiments 
of  their  hearts,  it  is  their  own  fault ;  but  I  believe 
this  gentleman  was  sincere.  He  observed  that 
there  was  an  ostentatious  show  of  hospitality  in 
the  Southern  States  ;  but  he  found  the  reality  in 
Boston.  He  went  there  a  stranger  and  without 
money ;  many  of  the  merchants  loaned  him 
money,  upon  his  word  only,  that  he  would  repay 
it. 

Madame  de  la  Fayette  discovered  her  usual  at 
tachment  to  the  Marquis  and  her  children.  The 
Marquis  had  ordered  that  the  children  should  not 
be  presented,  supposing  that  the  attention  paid  to 
them,  rather  a  compliment  to  him  and  his  lady, 
than  any  real  pleasure  the  company  could  possi 
bly  derive  from  their  presence ;  but  mamma  re- 


70  JOURNAL. 

quested  they  might  be  introduced,  and  they  came. 

April  7th.  To-day  we  had  a  small  company 
to  dine  :  —  Mr.  West,  who  gains  our  good  opinion 
daily,  as  a  man  of  sense,  and  possessed  of  many 
agreeable  qualities.  Mrs.  Hewsten  has  been  with 
Dr.  F.  all  winter  ;  she  is  a  sensible  woman.  The 
Dr.  addressed  some  of  his  philosophical  letters  to 
this  lady.  He  boarded  with  her  mother  in  Eng 
land,  and  has  continued  to  preserve  a  great  esteem 
for  Mrs.  Hewsten.  Her  manners  are  neither  mas 
culine  nor  affected ;  but  she  laughs  too  much  to 
please  me  ;  she  leaves  France  next  week,  to  return 
to  England. 

8th.     Mamma  and  myself  went  to  Paris,  and 

called  on  Mrs. ,  who  goes  in  a  few  days  to 

London.  I  could  not  but  regret  her  leaving  Paris, 
although  I  have  seen  but  little  of  her,  yet  I  never 
see  her  without  feeling  a  degree  of  regard  for  her. 
She  is  most  sweetly  amiable,  possessed  of  a  great 
share  of  sensibility :  had  she  married  a  man  of 
sense  and  judgment,  who  would  have  endeavour 
ed  to  turn  her  attention  to  something  more  impor 
tant  than  dress  and  show,  and  recommended  them 
only  as  ornaments  to  adorn  good  sense,  and  an 
improved  mind,  she  would  have  shown  with  dis 
tinguished  lustre,  in  every  point  of  view  ;  for  even 
now,  she  is  possessed  of  many  qualifications  to 
make  her  beloved  and  respected.  I  have  not 
formed  such  an  opinion  of  Mr. .  I  am  mista- 


JOURNAL.  71 

ken  if  he  does  not  lack  some  essential  qualifica 
tions  to  make  him  either  respected  or  admired. 

The  Marquis  de  la  Fayette,  has  received  some 
letters  from  America,  respecting  a  son  of  General 
Green's,  who  is  coming  to  France  to  be  educated 
with  the  Marquis'  son  George.  The  Marquis 
says  it  his  intention  to  send  his  son,  when  he  is 
fitted  to  be  educated,  at  Harvard  College.  Col.  H. 
told  him  to-day,  that  he  was  not  pleased  with  the 
idea,  that  some  of  the  principal  people  in  America 
should  send  their  children  to  France  for  their  ed 
ucation  —  my  papa  adds,  that  every  person  ought 
to  be  educated  in  the  country  in  which  they  are  to 
live,  and  of  which  they  are  a  part,  and  in  a  com 
munity  of  which  they  are  a  member.  Mr.  D.  also 
conversed  upon  the  salaries,  arid  manner  of  living, 
of  the  ambassadors  at  this  court.  The  Spanish 
Ambassador,  he  said,  had  an  hundred  persons  in 
his  house — fifty  servants  in  livery,  and  keeps 
thirty  horses.  The  Duke  of  Dorset,  Ambassador 
from  England,  has  fifty  servants,  twenty  of  them 
in  livery. 

May  10th,  1785.  Papa  went  to  Versailles  to 
day,  and  took  his  leave  of  this  court ;  he  has  been 
appointed  to  England.  Mr.  Jeiferson  succeeds 
him  here. 

llth,  Wednesday.  According  to  the  polite  in 
vitation  of  the  Baron  de  Stael,  Ambassador  from 
Sweden,  we  dined  with  him  to-day;  he  is  a  very 


72  JOURNAL. 

handsome  man,  a  good  figure,  and  tolerable  com 
plexion  ;  his  eyes  are  animated  ;  his  manners  are 
pleasing.  It  is  the  custom  in  this  country  to  have 
a  suit  of  rooms  all  open  for  the  reception  of  your 
company,  ail  equally  elegantly  furnished.  The 
ambassador  received  us  at  the  door  of  the  anti- 
chamber,  and  conducted  us  to  the  other  room, 
where  he  introduced  to  us  a  young  Swede,  a 
Baron,  who  had  served  two  years  in  America,  in 
the  French  army.  He  spoke  English  surprisingly 
well.  The  dinner  was  studiedly  simple  and  ele 
gant —  it  was  served  in  plate  —  the  knives,  forks, 
and  spoons  of  gold. 

May  9th,  1785 — Auteuil,  near  Paris.  When  we 
came  from  the  Marquis'  to-day,  where  we  had 
dined,  as  papa  had  business  with  Mr.  Jefferson, 
he  went  in  the  carriage  with  Mr.  W.  and  Mr. 
Short.  Messieurs  Jar  vis  and  Randal  went  with 
mamma  and  myself.  While  the  former  was  in  a 
shop  making  some  purchase,  Mr.  R.  and  myself 
had  a  learned  dissertation  upon  blushing,  which 
arose  from  a  girl  passing  by  the  carriage  with  a 
veil  on,  which  are  very  common  in  the  streets 
here,  made  of  lawn,  silk,  or  gauze,  and  worn  in 
stead  of  a  hat  or  bonnet.  The  latter  is  a  thing  I 
never  have  seen  in  France.  Mr.  R.  observed  that 
the  blush  of  innocence  was  a  better  veil.  I  said, 
there  were  few  of  those  known  in  Paris.  He  in 
quired  if  they  had  any  word  in  the  French  Ian- 


JOURNAL.  73 

guage  expressive  of  innocence  ?  There  is  not 
any  other  word  but  innocence,  and  it  is  almost 
without  a  use  here.  I  said,  it  was  a  very  painful 
sensation  —  I  thought  it  a  great  advantage  to  be 
exempt  from  it ;  he  was  not  of  this  opinion.  Mr. 
J.  who  had  been  in  the  shop,  came  to  the  door  of 
the  carriage  ;  Mr.  R.  told  him  of  our  conversation, 
upon  which  commenced  the  dissertation.  Mr.  J. 
decided  not  agreeably  to  my  opinion  or  belief,  that 
we  never  blushed  but  from  the  consciousness  of 
something  wrong  in  what  was  said  or  done,  that 
caused  the  blush.  I  do  not  believe  it ;  a  person 
so  subject  to  blush  as  myself,  should  be  interested 
in  removing  every  idea  of  evil  from  it.  When 
we  had  finished  our  business  we  went  to  Mr.  Jef 
ferson's,  where  I  saw  Miss  J.,  a  most  amiable  girl. 
Mr.  J.  has  not  dined  out  these  four  or  five  months, 
partly  from  choice.  If  he  could  discriminate,  he 
would  sometimes  favour  us  with  his  company. 
From  thence  we  went  to  see  the  abbes,  and  to  take 
leave  of  them.  I  have  not  seen  them  since  the 
death  of  the  Abbe  de  Mably  ;  they  were  cheerful, 
but  their  loss  is  great.  I  can  truly  say,  that  in 
coming  away  from  the  house,  I  felt  more  regret 
in  the  prospect  of  leaving  France  than  I  have  ever 
before  ;  they  are  two  such  good  old  men  that  one 
feels  for  them  the  respect,  veneration,  and  esteem, 
that  we  should  for  a  relation,  who  was  thus  ad 
vanced. 

7 


74  JOURNAL. 

As  we  came  home,  we  called  upon  Madame 
Helvetius,  who  has  been  very  sick  lately.  We 
were  admitted,  as  it  was,  to  take  leave.  From  the 
dining-room  you  enter  a  large  saloon,  which  was 
furnished  in  the  French  style,  —  a  number  of 
chairs,  settees,  and  pictures  ;  in  the  centre  was  a 
marble  table,  on  which  was  a  set  of  china,  some 
images,  and  in  the  middle,  a  large  circle  with  earth, 
a  number  of  lilacs  and  other  flowers,  which  re 
sembled  a  little  forest,  and  was  very  pretty.  From 
this  we  were  shown  to  the  ladies' chamber,  which 
is  large  and  handsomely  furnished.  Madame  Hel 
vetius  was  sitting  upon  a  settee  covered  up  as  a 
bed,  quite  at  her  ease  ;  her  dress  was  as  usual. 
She  was  attended  by  the  abbe  and  her  doctor. 
Her  great  dog,  which  Mr.  Franklin  brought  from 
England,  was  resting  before  her,  and  the  lap-dog 
upon  the  settee  ;  upon  the  table,  under  a  glass, 
was  a  monument  erected  to  the  memory  of  her 
husband,  over  which  hung  his  picture,  which  was 
very  handsome.  Madame  H.  appears  to  have 
been  a  very  beautiful  woman,  when  young.  A 
French  lady  compared  her  to  the  ruins  of  Palmyra. 
After  we  had  passed  half  an  hour  we  came  away, 
bidding  her  adieu. 

My  father  went  to  Versailles  to-day,  and  took 
his  leave  of  this  court.  Madame,  the  Marquise 
de  la  Fayette,  with  her  son  and  daughter,  came 
out  to  tea.  She  was  obliged  to  return  to  Paris  at 


JOURNAL.  75 

a  certain  hour,  on  account  of  her  son,  who  has 
lately  a  pension.  In  such  a  flying  visit,  no  one 
can  expect  any  degree  of  sociability,  or  to  form  an 
acquaintance  with  each  other's  disposition  or  man 
ners  When  Madame  took  leave  of  us,  she  saluted 
each,  mamma  arid  myself;  lately  she  has  taken 
this  liberty,  when  meeting  or  parting.  It  is  so 
much  the  custom,  with  the  ladies  of  this  country, 
that  I  believe  they  feel  rather  awkward  to  meet 
or  part  with  those  to  whom  it  is  unknown.  The 
ladies  kiss  each  other,  and  the  gentlemen  the  same. 
It  seems  a  curious  custom  to  those  who  are  not 
used  to  it,  and  caused  some  observation  this  after 
noon. 

Friday,  May  13th.  This  morning,  his  grace  the 
Duke  of  Dorset  called  upon  my  father,  with  a  let 
ter  to  the  custom-house  officer  at  Dover,  to  permit 
us  to  pass  unsearched.  He  has  been  very  polite 
and  friendly  in  his  offers  of  any  assistance  that 
it  was  in  his  power  to  offer,  in  a  public  or  private 
character.  He  informed  my  father  to-day,  that 
mamma  and  myself  must  be  presented  to  the 
Queen.  It  was  a  point  of  etiquette  not  possible 
to  be  dispensed  with  ;  this  I  am  very  sorry  to  hear. 
It  is  an  houour  that  I  would  wish  to  be  released 
from. 

Sunday,  May  15th.  This  morning  before  nine, 
we  were  in  our  carriage  on  our  way  to  Ver 
sailles.  To-day  is  the  fete  of  Penticost,  upon  which 


76  JOURNAL. 

the  knights  of  the  order,  Cordon  Bleu,  make  their 
procession ;  and  if  there  are  any  to  be  created, 
they  are  received  upon  this  fete ;  but  there  were 
none  to-day.  Every  Sunday  is  a  great  day  at 
Versailles  ;  but  upon  these  fetes  there  are  more 
people  than  usual. 

When  we  arrived,  we  entered  one  of  the  courts 
before  the  palace,  in  front  of  which  was  the 
king's  bed-chamber,  and  from  which  there  was  an 
entrance  into  the  garden,  to  which  we  went  first. 
It  is  large,  well  arranged,  and  clean  —  the  most 
elegant  place  I  have  seen  since  I  have  been  in 
this  country.  There  are  a  great  number  of  statues 
of  various  kinds ;  some  in  white  marble,  others 
in  bronze  ;  but  I  had  not  time  to  view  them  par 
ticularly  or  generally.  There  were  a  number  of 
water-works  playing,  which  are  very  pretty. 
There  is  a  piece  of  water  that  has  the  appear 
ance  of  a  small  river,  but  which  is  all  conveyed 
by  pipes  from  the  river  Seine.  Our  time  was  so 
short,  that  we  had  not  an  opportunity  to  take 
even  a  general  view  of  this  garden,  every  part  of 
which  deserves  attention.  From  hence  we  went 
into  the  gallery,  which  is  open  every  Sunday  for 
all  the  world  ;  and  apartments  from  it  to  the 
Chapel.  The  gallery  is  long  —  there  is  a  great 
deal  of  looking-glass  in  it,  and  painting  upon  the 
ceiling,  which  to  my  taste  is  the  most  improper 
place  in  a  building  to  put  paintings ;  yet  there 


JOURNAL.  77 

are  few  public  buildings  where  there  are  any 
paintings,  without  a  number  upon  the  ceiling 
which  in  general  is  arched.  The  next  was 
an  apartment  which  was  so  full,  there  was  scarce 
any  possibility  of  passing  through  ;  there  were 
two  other  apartments  very  large  and  filled  with 
persons,  before  we  arrived  at  the  one  where  the 
throne  was ;  in  this  I  was  more  disappointed  than 
in  any  of  the  others.  In  the  apartment  where  the 
throne  of  the  King  of  France  was,  the  architec 
ture  was  ancient,  and  there  were  several  pictures, 
one  of  Louis  XV,  and  another  of  his  queen.  From 
this  we  went  through  two  others  before  we  enter 
ed  the  gallery  of  the  Chapel ;  here  were  a  number 
of  guards  —  no  one  could  enter  without  their  per 
mission.  By  their  having  the  Cross  of  St.  Louis, 
I  supposed  they  were  noblemen.  We  had  not 
been  apprized  of  this  ceremony,  and  therefore  had 
no  places  engaged.  It  was  impossible  to  obtain 
a  front  seat ;  it  was  a  great  favour  we  obtained  any. 
The  guards  were  as  polite  as  possible,  and  grant 
ed  as  much  favour  as  their  situations  allowed. 
The  knights  of  the  Cordon  Bleu  all  came  in,  and 
took  their  seats  on  one  side  of  the  altar,  very  ele 
gantly  dressed  ;  the  blue  ribbons  across  the  shoul 
der,  and  over  their  coats  a  blue  cloak,  with  a  star 
embroiderd  on  the  left  side.  The  lady  who  goes 
round  to  collect  the  money  in  a  small  velvet  purse, 
entered  the  Church.  She  was  more  elegantly 
7* 


78  JOURNAL. 

dressed  than  any  other  person.  After  the  king  had 
entered,  she  went  round  to  the  knights,  and  with 
a  courtesey  the  most  graceful,  presented  her  little 
purse  to  each.  I  am  sure  no  one  could  have  refused 
putting  a  louis  in.  The  poor  might  perhaps,  with 
more  reason,  thank  her  appearance,  than  bless  the 
generosity  of  the  donors.  But  why  should  I  put 
this  construction?  I  am  sure  I  have  no  right  to. 
The  queen  did  not  appear  to-day.  There  was  in 
the  gallery  only  Madame  la  Comptesse  D'Artois, 
and  Madame  Elizabeth,  sister  to  the  king.  She 
seemed  very  attentive  to  the  mass,  and  paid  very 
little  attention  to  any  thing  but  her  book. 

We  then  left  the  gallery  of  the  Church  to  go  to 
the  king's  gallery,  where  all  the  knights  returned 
and  followed  by  his  majesty  and  his  two  brothers. 

London,  June  1st,  1785.  To-day  my  father 
went  with  Lord  Carmarthen  to  the  Palace,  where 
he  found  many  gentlemen,  known  to  him  before. 
Lord  C.  introduced  him  to  his  majesty,  George 
III.  Papa  made  his  speech  when  he  presented 
his  letter;  his  majesty  was  affected  and  said, 
"  Sir,  your  words  have  been  so  proper,  upon  this 
occasion,  that  I  cannot  but  say  I  am  gratified  that 
you  are  the  man  chosen  to  be  the  Minister." 

June  4th.  This  is  the  anniversary  of  his  majes 
ty's  birth;  consequently  there  was  a  Levee  at 
St.  James.  On  this  day  their  majesties  speak  to 
every  person  present.  The  King  speaks  first  to 


JOURNAL.  79 

the  Foreign  Ministers.  He  conversed  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  with  the  Spanish  Minister,  upon  music, 
of  which  he  said  he  was  passionately  fond,  par 
ticularly  of  Handel's  ;  he  respected  the  memory  of 
Handel,  for  he  owed  to  him  the  greatest  happiness 
of  his  life,  and  observed  that  Handel  had  said  of 
him  when  young,  "  that  young  man  will  preserve 
my  music."  My  father  observed  that  he  had  never 
heard  any  thing  like  conversation  at  court  before. 
One  of  the  Ambassadors  who  had  attended  at  the 
French  court  30  years,  said,  Monsieur  the  king's 
brother,  had  asked  every  time  he  had  been  to 
court,  which  was  generally  every  Tuesday,  "  have 
you  come  from  Paris  to-day  ?"  and  no  other  ques 
tion. 

September  2d.  About  twelve  o'clock,  Mrs. 
Smith  from  Clapham,  and  Miss  B.  called  upon 
us.  Mamma  was  just  dressing,  so  I  had  to  appear. 
Miss  B.  began  to  question  me,  as  to  which  coun 
try  I  liked  best,  France  or  England?  I  would 
not  give  a  preference.  "But  you  undoubtedly  pre 
fer  England  to  America?"  "  I  must  indeed  con 
fess,  Miss,  that  I  do  not  at  present."  Was  it  possi 
ble  !  I  acknowledged  the  excellencies  of  this  coun 
try.  There  was  more  to  please  and  gratify  the 
senses ;  but  I  had  formed  such  friendships  and  at 
tachments  in  America,  as  would  ever  render  it  dear 
to  me.  "  But  surely,  the  culture  is  carried  to  a 
much  greater  degree  of  perfection  here  than  in 


80  JOURNAL. 

America."  "  Granted."  "  And  you  must,"  said 
Miss  B.  very  pertly,  "find  a  great  difference  be 
tween  America  and  this  country?"  "In  what, 
pray,  Miss?"  said  1.  "Why  in  the  general  ap 
pearance,  in  the  people,  their  manners,  customs, 
behaviour,  and  in  every  thing."  "  Indeed,"  said 
I,  "I  do  not;  there  is  so  great  a  similarity  in 
the  manners  of  the  people,  in  the  two  coun 
tries,  that  I  should  take  them  for  one.  If  any 
thing,  I  find  a  greater  degree  of  politeness  and 
civility  in  America,  than  in  the  people  of  this 
country.  And  the  lower  class  of  people  in  Amer 
ica,  are  infinitely  superior  to  the  lower  class  of 
people  here."  Their  astonishment  was  great — was 
it  possible  I  could  think  so!  Surely  the  distress 
ing  war  had  been  an  impediment  to  all  improve 
ment  and  education.  Dr.  Bancroft  came  in,  and 
passed  an  hour.  After  he  had  gone,  we  had  some 
conversation  upon  the  pictures  below.  Papa  said 
they  were  spoiled ;  he  was  not  at  all  content  with 
his  own,  yet  thought  it  the  best  that  had  ever 
been  taken  of  him.  No  one  had  yet  caught  his 
character.  The  ruling  principles  in  his  moral 
character,  were  candour,  probity,  and  decision. 
I  think  he  discovered  more  knowledge  of  himself 
than  usually  falls  to  the  lot  of  man ;  for,  from  my 
own  observation,  I  think  these  are  characteristic 
of  him ;  and  I  add  another,  which  is  sensibility. 
I  have  never  discovered  a  greater  portion  of  can- 


JOURNAL.  81 

dour  in  any  character.  I  hope  if  I  inherit  any  of 
his  virtues  it  may  be  this  ;  it  is  a  necessary  at 
tendant  through  life.  In  whatever  intercourse  we 
have  with  society,  we  find  it  necessary  in  a  greater 
or  less  degree ;  and  in  the  mind  of  a  woman,  I 
esteem  it  particularly  amiable. 

November  3d.  We  attended  the  drawing-room 
for  the  third  time.  At  two  o'clock  we  went,  and 
were  in  season.  There  were  most  of  the  Foreign 
Ministers  present,  but  not  their  ladies.  All  hough 
I  have  seen  them  all,  I  do  not  know  many  of  them. 
Their  majesties  came  about  three  o'clock. 
There  were  not  many  ladies  or  gentlemen  —  the 
Prince  of  Wales,  the  Princess  Royal  and  Princess 
Augusta  accompanied  their  majesties.  There  were 
present  more  handsome  women  than  I  had  seen  be 
fore.  Lady  Stormont  is  the  handsomest  woman  I 
have  seen  in  Europe.  When  she  conversed,  her  air 
and  manner  was  graceful,  dignified,  modest,  and 
charming.  The  king,  queen,  and  prince  had  a 
great  deal  to  say  to  her,  particularly  the  latter  ; 
he  talked  with  most  of  the  Foreign  Ministers 
whom  he  knew,  and  is,  I  think,  a  handsome  man. 
Of  the  princesses,  I  am  most  pleased  with  the 
person,  manners,  and  deportment,  of  the  Princess 
Royal;  there  is  dignity,  grace,  and  affability,  with 
a  certain  degree  of  steadiness  which  I  like,  in  her 
manners. 

There  are  two  characters  the  very  opposite  to 


82  JOURNAL. 

each  other,  both  pleasing  to  me ;  and  a  woman 
to  be  agreeable  must  possess  either  one  or  the  oth 
er.  The  sprightliness,  vivacity,  animation  of  a 
French  woman,  that  will  inspire  every  one  who 
sees  her  with  the  same  spirit,  or  a  sedate  thought 
ful  manner,  animated  and  dignified.  Lady  Stor- 
mont  possesses  the  latter.  Although  I  am  pleased 
for  the  time  with  the  former,  yet  I  approve  most  of 
the  last,  as  it  is  best  calculated  to  support  with  dig 
nity  and  propriety,  every  situation  to  which  we  are 
subject  in  human  life.  Persons  sometimes  mistake 
their  own  characters,  and  endeavour  to  appear 
the  one,  when  the  other  would  best  become  them. 
There  are  an  immense  number  who  belong  to 
neither,  nor  can  by  their  utmost  exertions  acquire 
either. 

Lady  C.  and  daughter  were  remarkable,  not 
for  their  beauty,  but  for  the  elegance  of  their  dress. 
The  lady  made  herself  conspicuous,  by  the  extreme 
anxiety  to  have  her  daughter  spoken  to  by  the 
prince;  but  all  her  efforts  were  ineffectual.  He 
stood  and  conversed  an  hour  next  her,  with  Lady 
Stormont,  but  made  no  effort  to  speak  to  Miss  C. 
We  returned  home  at  five.  The  Chevalier  de 
Pinto,  the  Portuguese  Minister,  spent  an  hour  or 
two  with  my  father.  I  wrote  for  the  latter.  I  think 
the  Secretary  must  be  out  of  his  senses  to  remain 
so  long  from  his  duty. 

December  llth.li  We  called  upon  Mrs.  Jebb, 


JOURNAL.  83 

where  mamma,  the  Doctor,  and  Mrs.  Jebb,  had 
such  a  dish  of  politics  as  suited  all  their  tastes. 
The  Doctor  is  very  much  interested  in  America, 
and  solicitous  for  her  welfare  ;  at  least  he  seems  so, 
nay  more  than  seems.  Mrs.  Jebb  is  very  earnest 
and  equally  anxious.  I  am  diverted  when  she 
makes  inquiries  of  me,  about  politics,  who  never 
thought,  or  talked  of  them  in  my  life ;  but  she  does 
not  find  me  very  intelligent  on  the  subject,  conse 
quently  she  will  not  have  a  very  high  opinion  of 
me,  I  suppose ;  and  I  do  not  find  that  my  happi 
ness  is  in  any  \vay  dependent  upon  that. 

14th.  My  father  presented  Col.  H.  at  court  to 
day.  He  seemed  to  think  his  majesty,  George 
the  Third,  much  like  the  rest  of  the  world.  Col. 
H.  went  to  make  his  visits  to  all  the  Foreign  Min 
isters —  how  much  time  it  is  necessary  to  spend 
in  trifles  —  yet  I  do  not  know  why  one  trifle  is  not 
as  important  as  another,  and  I  begin  to  think  our 
whole  lives  nothing  else.  The  gentlemen  dined 
at  Mr.  Paradise's,  and  afterwards  went  to  the 
Royal  Society.  They  called  upon  us  about  nine, 
and  passed  an  agreeable  hour.  I  have  daily  more 
and  more  reason  to  observe  the  very  great  impor 
tance  of  early  education,  and  the  necessity  of 
forming  the  first  habits  with  propriety.  If  this  is 
riot  attended  to,  you  see  a  man's  whole  life  stain 
ed  and  spoiled,  by  habits  and  customs,  which  bear 
some  resemblance  to  vulgarity.  Col.  H.  is  one 


84  JOURNAL. 

instance  of  this.  I  do  not  know  what  his  early 
education  was,  but  from  some  things  that  mark 
his  conversation  now.  I  will  not  draw  a  compar 
ison  between  him  and  his  friend,  although  the  ad 
vantage  would  be  on  the  side  I  wish  ;  yet  as  the 
former  has  many  excellencies,  let  them  cover  the 
foibles,  or  rather  inaccuracies  which  may  appear. 

23d  June.  My  father  returned  from  Windsor, 
highly  pleased  with  his  visit,  and  particularly 
with  Mr.  Herschel.  The  evening  being  cloudy, 
there  was  no  star-gazing,  or  observing  the  moon, 
which  was  the  object  of  the  visit.  My  father  rep 
resents  Mr.  Herschel  to  be  a  man,  whose  attention 
to  study  does  not  render  him  silent  or  absent,  but 
as  a  cheerful  and  intelligent  companion ;  com 
municative  of  his  knowledge,  and  very  agreeable. 
Indeed  I  have  never  known  him  so  much  grati 
fied  by  a  visit  of  any  kind  before. 

Many,  many  are  the  ups  and  downs  of  the  spir 
its.  It  is  said,  in  a  multitude  of  counsel  there  is 
safety;  but  I  say,  that  in  a  variety  of  opinions 
there  is  perplexity. 

1787,  20th  July.  This  day,  three  years  ago, 
we  landed  on  this  island  from  America. 

We  set  our  faces  towards  Plymouth,  and  lodged 
at  Winchester. 

Sunday,  22d.  My  father  went  to  the  Cathedral 
in  the  morning.  This  town  was  the  residence  of 
King  Charles,  and  here  are  the  remains  of  the 


JOURNAL.  85 

castle  built  by  him.  They  relate  to  you  a  num 
ber  of  anecdotes  respecting  him. 

There  was  in  the  twelfth  century,  a  Sieur  de 
Quincy,  who  was  created  Earl  of  Winchester, 
by  King  John.  The  history  mentions  that  in  the 
thirteenth  century,  the  family  became  extinct,  and 
the  title  was  given  to  Lord  de  Spencer.  Sieur  de 
Q,uincy  was  one  who  signed  Magna  Charta. 
My  father  supposes  the  Q,uincys  in  America  to 
have  descended  from  him,  and  was  solicitous  to 
trace  the  descent ;  he  may  be  better  acquainted 
with  the  importance  of  it  than  I  am.  To  me  it 
appears  quite  a  matter  of  small  consequence. 
We  can  all  trace  our  descent  from  Adam,  and  no 
one  can  go  beyond  him. 

26th.  We  arrived  at  Axminster  ;  it  is  the  first 
town  in  the  county  of  Devonshire.  We  have 
come  through  Surry,  Hunt,  Hampshire,  Wiltshire, 
and  Dorsetshire. 

Mr.  Cranch  soon  waited  upon  us,  and  brought 
me  a  most  acceptable  present,  two  letters  from  my 
absent  friend  at  Madrid. 

27th.  We  concluded  to  pass  this  day  here, 
being  very  well  accommodated  with  apartments. 
Mr.  Cranch  engaged  to  dine  with  us,  and  came 
to  attend  us  to  take  a  view  of  the  manufactories 
of  this  place,  which  are  of  carpet  and  tape.  We 
then  visited  the  Church,  which  is  very  old  ;  the 
paintings  and  monuments  were  miserable,  except 
8 


86  JOURNAL. 

one,  of  which  Mr.  Cranch  had  the  direction  ;  it 
is  to  the  memory  of  a  lady  ;  the  device  represents 
the  dove  taking  the  veil  from  the  urn  which  con 
tains  her  ashes.  Mr.  C.  dined  with  us,  and  re 
quested  we  would  take  tea  at  his  cottage  ;  he 
came  at  six  to  attend  us.  He  lives  in  a  small, 
neat  cottage ;  every  thing  around  him  has  an  air 
of  taste,  united  with  neatness.  He  has  a  variety 
of  small  prints,  the  heads  of  many  eminent  per 
sons,  and  the  six  prints,  Hogarth's  representation 
of  la  marriage  a  la  mode.  He  has  also  a  painting 
of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh,  which  is  thought  an  origi 
nal  picture  ;  it  was  lately  left,  by  an  old  gentle 
man  who  died,  to  the  British  Museum.  Mr.  C. 
says  he  has  a  great  inclination  never  to  deliver 
it ;  he  thinks  it  ought  to  be  preserved  sacred  in 
this  county,  because  its  original  was  born  here  in 
the  parish  of  Baidley,  and  that  Sir  Walter's  cha 
racter  stands  very  high  throughout  the  county  of 
Devonshire.  Papa  observed  that  his  character 
did  not  appear  unexceptionable  ;  he  answered 
that  none  of  his  faults  were  known  here  ;  they  be 
lieved  only  in  his  virtues  and  excellencies. 

We  left  Axminster  at  nine  in  the  morning; 
Mr.  Cranch  took  a  seat  in  the  post-chaise  with 
papa ;  mamma  rode  in  the  coach.  The  road 
continues  very  mountainous  to  Honiton,  a  stage 
of  ten  miles  from  Axminster ;  just  before  you 
enter  the  former,  there  is  a  valley  which  is  much 


JOURNAL.  87 

admired  for  its  fertility  and  beauty.  The  latter 
part  of  the  road  answers  Mr.  Boylston's  descrip 
tion — that  the  roads  were  cut  or  worn  down  many 
feet,  and  the  hedges  so  thick  and  so  high,  that  one 
had  no  prospect  of  the  country  around  —  which  is 
the  case.  Mr.  Cranch  bore  these  inconveniences 
with  but  little  patience  ;  he  pulled  down  walls. 
and  tore  gates  up  from  hinges,  bolts  and  bars,  like 
a  Samson. 

These  persons  were  all  delighted  to  see  us,  and 
the  sincerity  of  their  professions  are  indubitable. 
Mr.  Bowering  in  particular,  expressed  his  respect 
for  my  father ;  he  said  he  was  a  man  of  no  cere 
mony,  but  he  hoped  he  should  not  find  him  de 
ficient  in  sincerity.  He  offered  us  some  cherries 
from  his  garden,  and  upon  mamma's  saying  they 
were  the  best  of  the  kind  she  had  tasted,  he  ex 
pressed  his  satisfaction,  and  said,  "  if  they  were 
golden  cherries,  she  would  be  welcome  to  them." 
It  is  a  great  satisfaction  to  be  thus  esteemed  ;  and 
this  kind  of  undisguised  respect  and  sincerity  is 
extremely  grateful  to  the  heart. 

Exeter.  My  father  has  gone  this  morning  with 
Mr.  Bowering,  to  call  on  Mr.  Twogood,  who  was 
formerly  the  dissenting  minister  in  this  place,  but 
is  now  so  old  as  to  be  unable  to  perform  the  du 
ties  of  his  former  station,  and  has  retired.  These 
people  are  all  dissenters;  I  believe  all  the  dis- 


88  JOURNAL. 

senters  in  this  country,  have  been  in  favour  of  the 
American  cause. 

In  the  neighbourhood  of  Plymouth,  we  vis 
ited  the  seat  of  Lord  Edgcomb.  Mount  Edg- 
comb  is  a  peninsula  formed  by  a  ridge  of  rocks, 
which  connects  it  with  the  town  of  Stonehouse. 
The  lawn  by  which  one  ascends  to  the  house, 
contains  60  acres  ;  on  each  side  are  large  rows  of 
trees,  of  chestnut  and  ash.  The  house  stands 
upon  the  side  of  a  hill ;  it  is  old,  and  built  upon 
a  very  small,  contracted  scale,  and  before  the 
family  was  ennobled.  I  do  not  believe,  from  the 
appearance  of  things  around,  that  this  event  has 
enlarged  their  minds.  One  circumstance  had  a 
very  singular  effect  upon  mine  ;  which  was,  that 
when  we  landed  we  observed  a  good  natured 
looking  man,  who  I  supposed  to  have  been  some 
servant  of  Lord  Edgcomb's,  placed  there  to  give 
directions  to  those  who  might  visit  his  seat,  until 
he  very  civilly  accosted  us,  desiring  we  would 
pay  our  passage,  which  was  two  pence  each  per 
son,  and  informed  us  that  he  payed  Lord  Edgcomb 
400  guineas  a  year  for  this  situation,  and  that  the 
perquisites  of  it  amounted  to  700,  and  observed  it 
took  a  great  many  two  pences  to  yield  this  sum. 
He  owns  all  the  boats  which  are  kept  on  this 
side.  The  grounds  contain  600  acres,  the  park 
300,  which  lies  wholly  uncultivated ;  it  was 
stored  with  the  finest  deer  1  have  seen  ;  they 


JOURNAL.  89 

were  the  forest  deer,  and  much  larger  than  those 
in  Hyde  Park. 

3d.  August.  Mr.  Cranch,  who  is  very  fond  of 
walking,  and  thinks  twenty  or  thirty  miles  a  day 
necessary  for  a  sedentary  life,  and  who  talks  often 
miles  as  a  morning  or  evening  airing,  invited  us 
to  take  a  walk  round  the  town,  and  upon  some  of 
the  eminences  which  command  extensive  pros 
pects. 

12th.  Bristol.  We  visited  Lord  Clifford's 
grounds ;  they  are  bounded  on  one  side  by  the 
river  Severn,  and  on  the  other  by  the  Avon  ;  they 
form  the  point  of  land  between  these  two  rivers  ; 
in  some  places  they  are  six  or  seven  miles  across. 
The  gardener  could  not  inform  us  how  many  acres 
they  contained,  but  said  they  produced  six  or 
seven  thousand  a  year.  This  place  has  more  nat 
ural  beauties  than  any  I  have  yet  seen  ;  it  is  kept 
in  good  order,  and  possesses  the  four  requisites  to 
render  it  perfect — lawn,  upland,  wood,  and  water. 
There  is  a  curious  hermitage  made  of  the  roots  of 
trees,  which  was  designed  by  the  present  Lady 
Clifford.  We  returned  to  Bristol  much  delighted 
with  our  visit. 

Oxford.  In  the  afternoon  we  took  a  guide,  and 
went  to  see  the  Colleges.  First,  the  Bodleian  Li 
brary,  and  Picture  Gallery.  The  latter  is  fur 
nished  with  valuable  portraits  of  the  founder  and 
benefactors,  and  of  other  eminent  men,  as  also 
8* 


90  JOURNAL. 

with  cabinets  of  medals,  and  cases  of  books  ; 
about  the  middle  of  it  stands  a  noble  statue  in 
brass,  of  Philip,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  designed  by 
Rubens.  This  room  is  a  continuation  of  the 
Bodleian  Library  ;  under  it  are  the  schools  of  the 
several  sciences. 

The  Bodleian,  or  Public  Library,  is  a  part  of 
the  above  mentioned  edifice ;  the  vestibule,  or 
first  gallery,  was  built  by  Sir  Thomas  Bodley, 
who  furnished  the  whole,  with  a  collection  made 
with  great  care;  he  likewise  assigned  an  estate 
for  the  maintenance  of  a  librarian,  adding  a  body 
of  statutes  for  the  regulation  of  his  new  institu 
tion,  by  which  he  justly  deserved  the  name  of  the 
founder  of  the  library.  He  died  January  28th, 
1612. 

We  then  visited  New  College,  which  was  foun 
ded  by  William  of  Wykeham.  and  finished  1385. 
In  this  college  in  the  ante-chapel,  there  are  some 
fine  paintings  upon  glass,  designed  by  Sir  Joshua 
Reynolds,  and  executed  by  Mr.  Jarvis  ;  it  con 
tains  seven  allegorical  figures,  representing  the 
four  cardinal,  and  three  Christian  virtues.  Tem 
perance  pouring  water  out  of  a  larger  vessel  into 
a  smaller  ;  her  common  attribute,  the  bridle,  lies 
at  her  feet.  Fortitude  in  armour,  her  head  rest 
ing  on  a  broken  column,  her  form  robust,  her  look 
bold  and  resolute,  a  lion  her  attendant.  Faith 
standing  fixedly  on  both  feet,  and  bearing  a  cross, 
her  eyes  and  hands  raised  to  heaven.  Hope 


JOURNAL.  91 

looking  up  to  the  same  heaven,  and  springing 
so  eagerly  towards  it,  that  her  feet  scarce 
touch  the  ground  ;  part  of  an  anchor  her  emblem. 

Justice  looking  with  a  steady  and  piercing  eye, 
through  the  dark  shade  that  her  arm  casts  over 
her  face,  in  her  left  hand  she  holds  the  steelyard, 
her  right  supports  the  sword. 

Prudence  beholding  as  in  a  mirror,  the  actions 
and  manners  of  others,  for  the  purpose  of  regula 
ting  her  own  ;  on  her  left  arm  an  arrow  joined 
with  a  Remora,  the  respective  emblems  of  swift 
ness  and  slowness.  Prudence  being  a  medium 
between  both. 

The  middle  group,  representing  Charity,  is  wor 
thy  of  particular  notice ;  the  fondling  of  the  in 
fant,  the  importunity  of  the  boy,  and  the  placid 
affection  of  the  girl,  together  with  the  decided  af 
fection  of  the  mother  ;  are  judiciously  marked 
with  that  knowledge  of  character  which  is  con 
spicuous  in  the  works  of  the  eminent  artist  who 
gave  the  design. 

As  a  basis  to  the  great  work,  in  a  space  of  eighteen 
feet  long  and  ten  wide,  is  represented  the  nativity 
of  Christ,  a  composition  of  thirteen  human  figures. 

From  New  College  we  went  to  Queen's  College, 
founded  by  Robert  Eglesfel,  confessor  to  Queen 
Philippa,  A.  D.  1340.  It  is  confined  to  the  reception 
of  scholars  from  Cumberland  and  Westmoreland. 

Thursday,  16th.  We  dined  early  and  went  to 
Blenheim,  the  seat  of  the  Duke  of  Marlborough. 


92  JOURNAL. 

It  is  about  ten  miles  from  Oxford.  The  hall  is  a 
magnificent  apartment,  it  extends  to  the  height 
of  the  house,  and  is  supported  by  Corinthian  pillars. 
The  ceiling  was  painted  by  Sir  James  Thornhill, 
allegorically  representing  Victory  crowning  John 
Duke  of  Marlborough,  and  pointing  to  the  plan 
of  the  battle  of  Blenheim.  The  library  is  one 
hundred  and  eighty-three  feet  long  ;  the  Doric  pi 
lasters  of  marble,  with  the  complete  columns  of 
the  same,  which  support  a  rich  entablature  ;  the 
window  frames  of  dark  mahogany  ;  the  surround 
ing  basement  of  black  marble,  are  in  the  highest 
taste  and  finish.  It  was  originally  intended  as  a 
gallery  for  paintings,  but  the  late  justly  lamented 
Duke  added  utility  to  elegance  ;  having  furnished 
it  with  the  noble  collection  of  books  made  by  Lord 
Sunderland,  his  grace's  father.  Their  number  is 
said  to  amount  to  24,000  volumes,  which  have 
been  allowed  to  be  worth  £30,000,  and  are  said 
to  be  the  best  private  collection  in  England ;  they 
are  kept  under  gilt  wire  lattices.  At  one  end  of 
the  room  is  a  highly  finished  statue  of  Queen 
Anne,  with  this  inscription  : 

To  THE  MEMORY  OF  QUEEN  ANNE, 

UNDER  WHOSE  AUSPICES, 
JOHN,  DUKE  OF  MARLBOROUGH, 

CONQUERED; 

AND    TO  WHOSE    MUNIFICENCE,  HE   AND   HIS  POSTERITY, 

WITH  GRATITUDE, 
OWE    THE   POSSESSION   OF  BLENHEIM. 


JOURNAL.  93 

The  gardens  are  spacious,  and  include  a  great 
variety  of  prospects  ;  the  noble  descent  on  the 
southwest  side  ;  the  vastness  and  beauty  of  the 
water  ;  the  grandeur  of  the  opposite  bank  ;  the 
cascade,  new  bridge,  and  lower  piece  of  water ; 
form  altogether  such  an  assemblage  of  beautiful 
objects,  as  are  perhaps  no  where  else  to  be 
found.  The  gardens  on  the  south  side  seem 
to  lose  themselves  in  the  park,  amidst  a  pro 
fusion  of  venerable  oaks,  and  intersected  avenues ; 
from  whence  they  derive  an  air  of  confusion  and 
indeterminate  extent,  which  is  very  pleasing. 

These  gardens  have  been  enlarged,  and  were 
thrown  into  the  form  they  now  wear,  by  the  pre 
sent  Duke  of  Marlborough;  he  has  likewise  beau 
tified  them,  by  the  addition  of  some  judicious  or 
naments.  The  gardener  has  lived  on  the  place 
twenty-five  years,  and  feels  himself  entitled  to 
make  his  own  remarks,  and  offers  them,  with  more 
wit  than  modesty. 

These  heights  command  a  variety  of  beautiful 
and  extensive  prospects  of  the  sea  and  land.  We 
numbered  ninety  vessels  of  all  kinds,  within  one 
view.  But  after  all,  neither  Mount  Edgcomb  nor 
Plymouth,  or  any  other  place  that  I  have  seen  in 
Europe,  will  bear  a  comparison  with  Milton  Hill  ;* 
some  might  call  this  prejudice,  perhaps  it  is ;  our 
attendant  told  us  that  the  fortifications  were  only 

*  Near  Boston. 


94  JOURNAL. 

for  ornament,  not  strength  ;  they  are  built  of  stone 
instead  of  earth, 

Our  walk  yesterday  of  four  miles,  and  the 
warmth  of  the  weather,  rendered  the  present  ex 
cursion  rather  fatiguing. 

London,  Nov.  1787.  We  had  a  representation  of 
seven  states  to-day  at  dinner.  Messrs.  Hindman 
and  Forrest  from  Maryland,  Mr.  Shippen  from 
Pennsylvania,  Mr.  Brackstone  from  Virginia,  Mr. 
Edwards  from  Carolina ;  Mr.  Trumbull  from 
Connecticut,  Colonel  Smith  from  New- York,  Mr. 
Cutting  and  ourselves  from  Massachusetts. 

We  received  an  account  of  the  result  of  the 
Convention,  entitled  the  Constitution,  which  is 
recommended  by  them  to  the  consideration  of  the 
states,  for  their  approbation  and  adoption.  My 
father  approves  of  it  in  general ;  some  persons 
would  have  preferred  a  system  that  would  have 
given  us  more  consequence  in  the  eyes  of  foreign 
ers.  The  powers  they  have  given  to  the  President 
are  equal  to  those  of  many  monarchs. 

I  do  not  pretend  to  be  a  judge  of  this  subject ;  but 
it  appears  to  me,  that  we  are  not  yet  prepared  for 
such  a  system.  The  principles  of  equality  which 
we  yet  possess,  would  not  admit  of  one  person's 
being  made  so  distinguished,  as  the  name  alone 
of  a  king  would  have  done  ;  besides,  we  have  no 
person  who  possesses  sufficient  fortune,  to  render 
him  respectable  ;  for  to  me  it  appears,  that  in  a 
monarchy,  power  and  riches  are  important  requi- 


JOURNAL.  95 

sites,  and  the  people  of  our  country  would  never 
consent  to  contribute  to  the  elevation  of  any  person 
to  so  high  a  dignity.  They  chouse  to  preserve 
the  idea,  that  every  one  may  aspire  to  the  highest 
offices  of  the  state. 

Saturday,  3d.  Mr.  Jennings  dined  with  us. 
Every  person  appears  much  gratified  with  our  Con 
stitution  ;  and  the  accounts  from  America  are  fa 
vourable  for  its  reception  and  adoption  by  the 
states,  which  give  their  friends  on  this  side  of  the 
water  much  pleasure.  Many  persons  say  here, 
that  they  have  followed  my  father's  plan,  and 
taken  his  book  for  their  model.  The  ill-wishers 
to  America  say  it  is  too  good  for  them  to  adopt. 

Notwithstanding  a  bad  cold,  I  wrapped  myself 
up,  and  went  to  the  play,  to  see  Mrs.  Abington  as 
Belinda,  in  All  in  the  Wrong.  The  characters 
were  well  supported ;  I  think  I  never  saw  a  part 
better  performed  than  Lady  Restless.  Messrs. 
Shippen,  Cutting,  and  Trumble,  were  in  our  box. 

I  confess  I  am  not  an  admirer  of  Mrs.  Abington  ; 
she  is  much  celebrated,  but  is  not  to  my  taste  ;  she 
is  now  sixty  years  old,  and  no  one  would  suppose 
her  more  than  three  and  twenty.  She  is  not  to 
be  compared  to  Miss  Farren,  whose  easy,  graceful, 
affable  manner  of  doing  every  thing  is  charming. 
But  Mrs.  A.  is  the  fashion,  or  has  been  some 
twenty  years  past,  and  still  preserves  her  theatri 
cal  fame. 

Thursday,  30th.  Mamma  and  myself  concluded 


96  JOURNAL. 

to  take  my  son  to-morrow  morning,  and  go  out 
fourteen  miles  to  meet  his  father,  but  I  was  most 
agreeably  disappointed  at  his  presenting  himself 
about  two  o'clock  ;  finding  no  inconvenience  from 
moving  rapidly,  he  came  on  much  faster  than  he 
had  any  idea  of  being  able  to  ;  although  he  had 
concealed  from  me  his  long  and  tedious  illness. 
But  thanks  to  that  Being  who  sustains,  supports, 
and  regulates  us  through  this  life,  he  is  again  re 
stored  to  health  and  to  his  family.  To  describe  the 
sensations  of  the  mind  upon  this  occasion  were 
vain  ;  from  the  memory  they  can  never  be  erased. 


97 


LINES, 

Addressed  in  1S38,  to  a  Portrait  of  Mrs.  SMITH,  taken  by  Copley 
in  1787. 


Sweet  lady  !  one  could  gaze  for  aye 

Upon  thy  likeness;  —  purity  itself  looks  out 

From  the  still  depths  of  those  blue  eyes 

Where  love  and  gentleness  seem  mingled  into  one. 

There  is  an  angel  sweetness  round  thy  face, 

Such  as  we  dream  of  for  a  fairer  world  — 

And  a  smile,  too,  as  innocent  and  bright 

As  Paradise  beheld,  when  Eve  first  saw 

The  golden  sunlight  and  the  fresh  young  flowers. 

Methinks,  too,  thou  wilt  speak,  and  I'd  fain  hear 

What  gentle  words  those  lips  would  murmur, 

That  seem  to  prison  up  some  tender  speech 

To  melt  the  heart  when  uttered. 

All  silent  — 

Ah!  'tis  but  the  semblance  of  thyself,  fair  lady  ; 
Thy  beauteous  form  is  faded,  and  thy  spirit 
All  angelic,  now  is  disenthralled  of  clay  ; 
Yet  do  thy  virtues,  purity  and  love, 
Fresh  and  undimm'd,  like  this  sweet  portrait,  live 
In  those  whose  hearts  are  warm'd  with  blood  from  thine, 
Whose  souls  have  caught  thy  gentleness, 
And  from  whose  eyes  beam  forth  the  tender  looks 
That  freshen  life,  guide  us  to  good,  and  sweeten 
Many  a  bitter  cup.     Oh  !  as  they  pass  thee,  may  they  stop 
And  gazing  muse  —  how  fade  we  all,  and  perish!  — 
Life  is  a  dream  :  sweet,  if  like  thine  'tis  past, 
If  wasted  —  bitter  when  we  wake  at  last. 

A  J.  D. 


98 


TO    MRS.  CAROLINE    A.    DE  WINDT. 

Washington,  19th  March,  1819. 
MY  DEAR  NIECE: 

I  gave  the  portrait  of  my  beloved  arid  lamented 
sister,  your  dear  mother,  to  mine  without  reserve, 
and  to  be  disposed  of  at  her  pleasure.  And  how 
ever  gratifying  it  would  be  to  me  to  be  the  pos 
sessor  of  it  myself,  I  acknowledge  your  still 
stronger  claim  to  it — and  were  it  mine  to  give 
away  again,  would  ask  your  acceptance  of  it.  I 
have  no  such  power,  for  it  is  yours  by  the  dona 
tion  of  her  to  whom  alone  it  belonged.  Yet  the 
truly  delicate  and  affectionate  doubt  of  my  ever 
honoured  father,  which  induced  you  to  make  the 
inquiries  in  your  letter,  deserves  all  my  gratitude, 
and  excites  in  my  breast  emotions  of  a  soothing, 
though  melancholy  pleasure.  From  the  occur 
rence  of  this  incident,  I  cherish  the  hope,  that 
while  the  picture  shall  habitually  present  you  the 
faithful  image  of  her  whom  it  represents,  and  the 
blessed  memory  of  her  from  whom  you  will  have 
received  it,  with  those  deep  and  tender  recollec 
tions,  will  be  sometimes  congenially  mingled  the 
thought  of  him,  among  the  purest  joys  of  whose 
life,  is  the  happiness  of  having  been  the  brother 
and  the  son  of  such  unsurpassed  excellence  upon 
earth,  of  your  affectionate  friend  and  uncle, 

JOHN  duiNCY  ADAMS. 


MEMOIR 


WILLIAM   S.   SMITH. 


THE  editor  is  enabled  to  furnish  the  following  sketch, 
chiefly  collected  from  a  private  journal.  In  22  battles  of  the 
revolutionary  war,  was  the  subject  of  this  memoir  engaged. 

W.  S.  SMITH  graduated  in  Princeton  College, 
in  the  year  1774,  and  returning  to  the  city  of 
New-York,  his  native  place,  and  the  residence  of 
his  family,  studied  the  law  with  Samuel  Jones, 
Esq.  until  the  revolutionary  war  commenced. 

At  an  early  period  of  the  revolutionary  war, 
the  depredations  committed  by  the  British,  upon 
the  estate  belonging  to  the  father  of  Colonel 
Smith,  upon  Long-Island,  were  extensive.  His 
maternal  grandfather  had  been  killed  in  the  British 
service,  on  board  of  a  man-of-war,  and  his  widow 
received,  until  the  age  of  ninety,  the  period  of  her 
death,  the  half  pay  of  Captain  Stephens,  her  hus 
band. 


100  MEMOIR. 

She  remained  in  the  City  of  New- York,  during 
the  whole  of  the  war,  visited,  by  the  permission 
of  the  British  commander,  by  her  daughter  Mrs. 
Smith,  who  was  her  only  child,  and  her  grand 
children,  protected  by  a  flag  of  truce. 

Owing  to  these  circumstances,  there  existed  in 
the  family  a  divided  feeling.  And  when  a  sword 
and  a  major's  commission,  with  the  entire  restora 
tion  of  the  property  belonging  to  the  family,  were 
offered  by  the  British  commander  to  a  young  man 
not  twenty  years  of  age,  provided  he  would  enter 
the  service  of  his  Britainic  Majesty,  the  mother 
of  Col.  Smith  warmly  advocated  his  acceptance 
of  terms  so  advantageous  to  herself  and  children, 
extremely  doubtful,  as  it  then  was,  in  what  way 
the  struggle  for  the  independence  of  America 
would  terminate. 

A  family  council  was  called  ;  the  question  pro 
posed,  when  the  son  gave  his  answer  in  the  fol 
lowing  words : 

"  If  it  is  your  wish,  madam,  it  shall  be  done ; 
but  from  this  hour,  all  intercourse  with  me  and 
my  family  is  cut  off  forever."  His  father,  who 
had  walked  the  room  during  the  scene  deeply 
agitated,  applaudingly  exclaimed,  "  I  knew  how 
my  boy  would  decide." 

He  entered  the  service  as  a  volunteer  at  an 
early  period,  and  in  the  summer  of  1776,  was  ap 
pointed  aid^de-camp  to  Major  General  Sullivan, 


MEMOIR.  101 

with  the  rank  of  major,  served  in  that  capacity  in 
the  battle  of  Long-Island,  and  was  the  only  aid- 
de-camp  with  the  general  in  that  actior.,hr  which 
the  whole  corps  were  dispersed,  killed," 'or  made 
prisoners,  with  very  few  exceptions0.  vTho  geiv 
eral  fell  into  the  enemy's  hands,  and  Major  Smith 
retired  to  the  lines  at  Brooklyn,  where  he  remain 
ed  with  General  Washington  until  the  retreat  from 
the  island,  and  was  one  of  the  last  officers  who 
quitted  it,  coming  off  with  the  commander  in  chief 
in  his  barge. 

Major  Smith  continued  with  General  Wash 
ington,  and  retired  with  him  from  the  city  to  the 
heights  of  Harlem.  He  brought  off  the  garrison 
by  orders  from  the  commander  in  chief,  on  the 
15th  September,  from  the  fort  commanding  the 
passage  through  Hurl  Gate,  and  opposed  to  the 
British  batteries  on  the  opposite  shore,  under  a 
heavy  and  incessant  fire.  In  the  action  on  the 
16th  September,  on  Harlem  Heights,  he  served 
as  aid-de-camp  to  Major  Gen.  Green,  who  com 
manded  the  advanced  attack  on  the  British,  was 
wounded  and  fell  from  his  horse  on  the  field  of 
battle  at  the  close  of  the  action,  and  was  brought 
off  the  field  by  Col.  Carey,  aid-de-camp  to  the 
commander  in  chief,  and  Lieut.  Joseph  Webb,  of 
the  first  Connecticut  regiment.  He  remained  un 
der  the  surgeon's  hands  at  West  Chester,  until 
the  landing  of  the  British  troops  at  Throgg's  Neck 


102  MEMOIR. 

in  October,  when,  with  a  corporal  and  six  men,  he 
cut  away  tha  bridge  connecting  Throgg's  Point 
wit|i^thtj;-mafn,  at  the  town  of  West  Chester, 
which  -checked^the  progress  of  the  British  troops, 
\\tflo  remained  on  the  peninsula  until  the  morning 
of  Ithe'lSth,  when  re-embarking,  they  crossed  the 
outlet  of  East  Chester  creek,  and  proceeding  to 
Pell's  bridge,  brought  on  a  very  severe  skirmish 
with  the  advance  corps  of  Sullivan's  army,  com 
manded  by  Cols.  Glover  and  Sheppard  -}  when  the 
enemy  filed  to  their  right,  occupying  New  Ro- 
chelle  and  the  adjacent  country  on  the  sound. 
Gen.  Sullivan  being  exchanged,  and  in  command 
on  the  heights  of  East  Chester,  commanding  Pell's 
Bridge,  Major  Smith  joined  him  in  the  action, 
from  New  Rochelle,  where  he  was  under  the  care 
of  Dr.  Bailey,  his  wound  not  well.  He  proceeded 
with  his  general  to  the  action  of  White  Plains, 
where  his  division  continued  under  a  severe  fire 
nearly  two  days,  covering  the  removal  of  the 
stores  on  the  Plains,  to  the  second  position. 

While  the  enemy  lay  within  commanding  dis 
tance  of  the  village,  Major  Smith,  with  a  small 
detachment  at  night,  destroyed  all  the  forage  in 
the  village  and  its  vicinity  in  front,  and  returned 
to  his  post. 

The  British  troops  retiring  to  winter  quarters, 
possessed  themsel  ves  of  Fort  Washington  on  York 
Island,  and  Fort  Lee  on  the  Jersey  shore.  Sir 


MEMOIR.  103 

William  Howe,  throwing  the  right  wing  of  his 
army  into  the  Jersey,  under  command  of  Lord 
Cornwallis,  Gen.  Washington  left  Generals  Lee 
and  Sullivan  with  his  troops,  near  the  White 
Plains,  and  joined  Gen.  Green  in  front  of  the 
British  army,  but  was  obliged  to  submit  to  the 
pressure  of  the  British,  who,  advancing  in  vigour, 
forced  the  commander  in  chief  to  place  the  Dela 
ware  between  the  two  armies,  as  the  only  barrier 
he  could  present,  that  would  afford  rest  to  his 
troops,  harassed  by  the  pressure  of  superior  force, 
the  badness  of  the  roads,  and  the  inclemency  of 
the  season. 

During  this  period,  Gen.  Lee  gave  Major  Smith 
the  charge  of  a  flag  of  truce,  with  important  des 
patches  to  Sir  William  Howe  at  New- York.  Ma 
jor  Smith  proceeded  to  King's  Bridge,  the  British 
advanced  post,  resided  several  days  with  the  ene 
my,  and  returned  to  Gen.  Lee,  having  transacted 
the  business  committed  to  his  charge  to  his  full 
satisfaction. 

In  consequence  of  orders  from  head  quarters, 
on  the  western  banks  of  the  Delaware,  Gen.  Lee 
crossed  the  Hudson,  with  an  intention  to  rein 
force  the  main  army.  During  this  march  Major 
Smith  left  Gen.  Sullivan's  family,  and  served  as 
aid-de-camp  to  Gen.  Lee,  the  commanding  general. 
On  Lee's  capture  at  Baskenbridge,  Smith  rejoined 
Sullivan,  and  crossing  the  Delaware,  encamped 


104  MEMOIR. 

at  Newtown,  the  head  quarters  of  the  American 
army. 

Emboldened  by  this  reinforcement.  Washing 
ton  re-crossed  the  Delaware  on  the  night  of  the 
25th  of  December,  and  surprised  the  Hessians  at 
Trenton,  commanded  by  Col.  Roll.  In  this  mem 
orable  action,  Major  Smith  acted  so  conspicuous 
a  part,  entering  the  town  with  the  advance  troops 
\  /of  Sullivan's  division,  taking  possession  of  the 
Mill  Bridge,  and  the  commanding  western  branch 
of  the  mill  stream,  and  subsequently,  personally 
taking  the  commanding  officer  of  the  Hessians 
from  his  horse  at  the  head  of  his  troops,  at  the 
moment  of  surrender,  that  on  the  last  of  January, 
1777,  Gen.  Washington  presented  Major  Smith 
with  a  lieutenant-colonelcy,  as  a  mark  of  his  par 
ticular  consideration. 

After  returning  with  the  prisoners  over  the 
Delaware,  General  Washington  gave  Col.  Smith 
the  command  of  a  flag  of  truce  to  proceed  to 
Princeton,  the  then  advanced  post  of  the  enemy 
in  the  Jerseys,  with  despatches  arid  money  for 
Gen.  Lee,  then  a  prisoner  at  New-Brunswick,  and 
to  reconnoitre  the  enemy. 

This  duty  was  performed  with  correctness  and 
despatch.  In  the  meantime  the  American  army 
re-crossed  the  Delaware,  and  took  post  at  Trenton, 
where  Col.  Smith  rejoined  the  troops  when  re 
turning  with  his  flag.  The  winter  campaign  was 


MEMOIR.  105 

re-opened  with  vigour,  and  the  British  were  foiled 
in  the  Jerseys. 

Col.  Smith  retiring  from  camp  on  the  recruit 
ing  service,  appeared  in  the  field  again  at  the 
head  of  a  well  appointed  regiment,  and  joined 
Gen.  Putnam  on  the  eastern  banks  of  the  Hud 
son,  at  the  time  Sir  Henry  Clinton,  after  reducing 
forts  Clinton  and  Montgomery,  was  pressing  to 
Albany  to  relieve  Burgoyne,  then  on  the  point  of 
surrendering  to  Gates.  Sir  Henry  being  informed 
of  the  Convention  of  Saratoga,  burnt  Esopus,  dis 
tressed  the  settlers  on  both  banks  of  the  Hudson, 
and  returned  to  New- York. 

Colonel  Smith  being  joined  by  the  regiments  of 
Henly  and  Jackson,  of  which  as  senior  officer  he 
took  command,  proceeded  to  White  Marsh  in 
Pennsylvania,  and  joined  the  army  commanded 
by  Gen.  Washington.  On  the  advance  of  the 
British  from  Philadelphia,  threatening  the  right 
of  the  Americans,  Col.  Smith  was  posted  on  the 
right  to  defend  an  abatised  bridge  and  mills. 
Upon  the  reconnoitre  of  the  position,  the  British 
retired  from  the  right,  and  presented  themselves 
in  front  of  the  centre  of  the  American  line.  Col. 
Smith  was  then  called  from  the  right,  and  ordered 
to  occupy  two  large  stone  houses  in  front  of  the 
centre,  and  between  the  two  armies,  to  abatis  the 
houses  with  an  adjoining  orchard,  and  defend  the 
post  to  the  last  extremity.  The  orders  being  exe- 


106  MEMOIR. 

cuted,  and  the  troops  posted,  a  close  reconnoitre 
of  position  took  place  on  the  part  of  the  enemy,  a 
rapid  movement  from  centre  to  left  followed,  but 
the  position  was  not  thought  assailable,  and  the 
British  army  retired  to  Philadelphia. 

The  Americans  crossed  the  Schuylkill,  and 
went  into  cantonments  at  Valley  Forge.  Col. 
Smith  with  the  regiments  of  Lee,  Henly,  and 
Jackson,  went  into  quarters  at  Lancaster,  and  in 
the  spring  marching  to  head  quarters,  was  en 
trusted  by  the  commander  in  chief  with  the  com 
mand  of  the  advance  post  at  the  Gulf  Mills,  six 
miles  in  front ;  Col.  Morgan  with  his  riflemen, 
and  Col.  Kee  with  his  legion  extending  to  the 
right.  He  here  commanded  with  vigilance  and 
attention,  until  the  evacuation  of  Philadelphia, 
when  with  his  corps  he  entered  that  city  under 
the  orders  of  General  Arnold,  crossed  the  Dela 
ware,  and  overtook  the  British  troops  at  Allen 
Town,  hung  on  their  rear  with  effect  to  the  plains 
of  Monmouth.  Here  3000  picked  men,  under  the 
command  of  Major  General  Lee,  (he  being  then 
exchanged)  were  detached  to  attack  the  British, 
then  in  full  march.  Col.  Smith,  connected  with 
Butler  and  Jackson,  were  ordered  to  the  front,  as 
the  advanced  corps  of  Lee's  division,  commenced 
the  well  known  action  on  the  plains  of  Monmouth, 
and  aided  in  supporting  it  through  the  day. 

The  British  pursued  their  march  to  Middletown 


MEMOIR.  107 

Point,  and  proceeded  to  New- York.  The  Ameri 
can  army  took  post  at  the  White  Plains,  and  Col. 
Smith  was  detached  with  his  regiment  to  the  at 
tack  of  Newport,  in  Rhode-Island,  under  the  or 
ders  of  General  Sullivan.  After  making  good  their 
landing  on  the  island,  his  regiment  was  the  ad 
vance  corps  of  the  army  in  approaching  Newport, 
and  lay  in  advance  during  the  whole  siege.  For 
the  security  of  the  camp,  300  picked  men  were  pla 
ced  under  the  command  of  Col.  Smith,  and  an 
equal  number  under  Colonels  Lawrence  and  Flue- 
ry,  who  were  required  to  lay  every  night  between 
the  lines  in  such  positions  as  their  judgments  di 
rected,  to  check  a  sortie,  or  prevent  a  surprise  of 
the  camp.  When  the  siege  was  raised.  Smith's  re 
giment  was  the  covering  regiment  of  the  retreat, 
and  distinguished  itself  in  the  action  on  Wind 
mill  Hill,  supporting  the  position  with  vigour  from 
sunrise  until  ten  o'clock,  when  the  corps  was 
relieved  by  other  troops  and  ordered  to  retire 
for  refreshment.  The  action  continuing  lightly 
through  the  day  —  about  4  P.  M.  glowed  with 
increased  vigour — a  Hessian  regiment  having 
possessed  themselves  of  a  strong  wall,  Smith's 
regiment  was  ordered  to  advance  and  dispossess 
them ;  this  was  done  with  alacrity,  and  the  post 
sustained  through  the  night. 

On  the  ensuing    evening,   General    Sullivan, 
being  under  the  necessity  of  evacuating  the  island, 


108  MEMOIR. 

selected  four  regiments  to  cover  the  retreat.  Col. 
Smith  commanded  one  of  these,  the  orders  being, 
in  case  of  the  enemy's  advancing,  that  the  action 
should  be  supported  with  determined  vigour. 
The  retreat  was  successfully  conducted,  and  the 
troops  went  into  winter  quarters  at  Providence 
and  the  adjacent  villages.  Col.  Smith  was  here 
detached  with  400  men  and  took  charge  of  the 
post  at  Updik's,  Newtown,  25  miles  in  advance, 
which  he  supported  through  the  winter. 

In  the  spring,  General  Sullivan  being  ordered 
take  command  of  the  western  army,  solicited 
and  obtained  General  Washington's  permission, 
that  Col.  Smith  should  accompany  him  on  the 
expedition.  General  Hand,  who  commanded  at 
Wyoming,  called  on  the  commanding  general  for 
aid,  the  savages  closely  besetting  the  garrison  and 
village.  Six  strong  companies  of  light  infantry 
accordingly  detached  under  the  command  of  Col. 
Smith  who,  traversing  the  wilderness,  arrived  to 
the  great  joy  of  the  inhabitants  and  the  garrison, 
and  encamping  on  the  right  of  the  fort,  restored 
tranquillity  to  the  settlement. 

The  savages  moving  down  the  country,  with 
an  intention  to  interrupt  the  passage  of  the  bat- 
teaux  loaded  with  provisions  and  stores,  at  the 
Nesnepack  falls,  on  the  Susquehannah,  Col.  Smith 
was  detached  with  500  men  to  cover  the  passage, 
and  convey  the  stores  to  the  fort,  the  place  of 
deposit.  This  was  performed  in  five  days,  the 


MEMOIR.  109 

detachment  and  batteaux  arriving  in  safety,  the 
savages  being  totally  defeated  and  their  country 
laid  waste,  the  troops  went  into  cantonment  in 
the  vicinity  of  Morris  Town,  winter  of '79  and  '80. 

In  the  year  1777,  when  a  part  of  the  American 
army  were  on  their  march  through  the  Jerseys, 
the  roads  being  in  a  bad  condition,  the  camp 
equipage,  and  the  provision  wagons  were  impeded 
for  a  considerable  number  of  hours,  which  caused 
the  advanced  corps  to  halt ;  and  the  commanding 
officer,  Major  General  de  la  Fayette,  growing  im 
patient  at  the  delay,  called  for  Col.  Smith,  one 
of  his  aids-de-camp,  to  demand  the  cause.  The 
General  was  very  angry  when  informed  that  it 
was  owing  to  the  Quarter  Master's  forward  wagon 
being  stuck  in  the  mud,  and  none  in  the  rear 
could  advance  a  step,  until  the  provision  wagon 
was  dug  out. 

This  excuse  so  exasperated  the  General  against 
the  Quarter  Master,  that  he  rather  hastily  per 
haps,  declared  that  he  deserved  to  be  hung.  His 
aid  replied,  "if  you  will  sign  a  warrant  for  that 
purpose,  it  shall  be  instantly  executed."  The 
warrant  was  drawn,  but  not  executed,  as  the  em 
barrassment  in  the  passage  had  in  the  mean  time 
been  removed. 

On   the  opening  of  the  next  campaign,  Col, 
Smith's  regiment  was  ordered  to  the  front,  in  con 
junction  with  three  others,  composing  the  Jersey 
10 


110  MEMOIR. 

Brigade,  and  covered  the  country  and  towns  of 
Newark  and  Elizabeth,  until  General  Sterling,  at 
the  head  of  a  strong  column  of  British  troops, 
crossing  from  Staten  Island,  took  up  their  line  of 
march  to  Springfield.  Col.  Smith  began  the  action 
with  this  column  at  sunrise,  and,  aided  by  the  first 
Jersey  regiment,  supported  it  until  three  in  the  af 
ternoon.  General  Sterling  was  disabled  by  the 
fire  of  the  Pickett,  on  his  first  landing,  and  his 
army  retired  on  the  second  night  to  Elizabeth- 
town  point,  and  returned  to  Staten  Island.  In  a 
short  time,  however,  the  enemy  re-appeared  under 
the  command  of  General  Knyphausen,  who  press 
ing  as  far  as  the  first  bridge  of  Springfield,  which 
was  supported  by  Col.  Angel's  regiment  of  Rhode 
Island.  Col.  Smith  with  the  second  Jersey  regi 
ment  was  stationed  at  the  second  bridge,  to  cover 
the  troops  then  in  action  at  the  first,  with  orders 
to  support  the  post,  until  the  army  commanded 
by  Greene  should  have  completed  its  formation  on 
the  short  hills  in  rear.  This  duty  was  performed 
with  such  spirit  and  brilliancy,  that  Col.  Smith 
was  honoured  by  the  particular  thanks  of  Generals 
Washington  and  Greene. 

After  several  ineffectual  movements,  the  enemy 
again  retreated  to  their  islands,  and  the  Ameri 
cans  took  post  at  Hackensack  and  the  English 
neighbourhood.  In  this  position,  a  corps  of  light 
infantry  consisting  of  three  thousand  picked  men, 


MEMOIR.  Ill 

was  formed  into  two  brigades,  under  Brigadier 
Generals  Hand  and  Poor,  forming  one  division, 
commanded  by  Major  General  the  Marquis  de  la 
Fayette.  Col.  Smith  was  appointed  adjutant 
general  of  this  corps,  and  served  with  it  the  ensu 
ing  campaign,  until  the  march  of  Lord  Cornwal- 
lis  into  Virginia,  and  his  taking  post  at  York  and 
Gloucester,  determined  General  Washington  to 
march  from  the  Hudson  and  attack  him. 

Col.  Smith  was  then  called  by  General  Wash 
ington  from  the  southern  army,  and  appointed 
his  aid-de-camp,  in  which  capacity  he  served  at 
the  siege  of  York  Town,  and  the  surrender  of 
Lord  Cornwallis.  On  the  surrender  of  York 
Town,  Col.  Smith  was  the  officer  by  whom  Lord 
Cornwallis  and  General  O'Hara  were  presented 
to  the  commander  in  chief,  and  to  whom  the  di 
rection  of  the  interior  arrangement  was  commit 
ted.  After  passing  the  winter  with  the  General 
at  Philadelphia,  he  accompanied  him  to  the  Hud 
son,  and  was  appointed  to  command  the  advanced 
post  of  the  army  at  Dobb's  Ferry.  The  General 
also  appointed  him  Commissary  General  of  pris 
oners,  and  stopped  all  communication  by  flag  of 
truce  with  the  enemy,  fixing  on  the  post  com 
manded  by  Col.  Smith,  as  the  only  channel  of 
communication.  This  post  was  supported  with 
dignity.  Col.  Smith  visited  the  city  of  New- 
York,  entered  into  the  exchange  of  prisoners,  and 


112  MEMOIR. 

after  a  residence  of  three  weeks,  completing  the 
business  to  the  satisfaction  both  of  General 
Washington  and  Sir  Guy  Carlton,  whose  civili 
ties  and  attentions  were  extensive  and  pointed,  he 
returned  to  his  post.  The  ensuing  spring  open 
ing  under  the  blessings  of  peace,  a  meeting  was 
had  between  General  Washington  and  Sir  Guy 
Carlton,  at  the  post  commanded  by  Colonel 
Srniih,  who  introduced  them  to  each  other.  Af 
ter  the  interview  with  the  two  Generals,  Col. 
Smith  was  appointed  by  General  Washington, 
one  of  the  Commissioners  to  reside  near  Sir  Guy 
Carlton,  superintending  the  evacuation  of  the 
country.  At  the  particular  evacuation  of  New- 
York,  Col.  Smith  was  the  acting  officer  of  the 
day,  relieved  the  British  guards,  and  was  the  of 
ficer  to  whom  the  country  was  officially  surren 
dered. 

Peace  being  restored,  among  the  first  appoint 
ments  of  the  Government,  was  that  of  Col.  Smith 
by  the  votes  of  Congress,  36  out  of  37  votes  in 
his  favour,  as  Secretary  of  Legation  to  the  Court 
of  Great  Britain. 

In  1786,  Mrs.  Adams  writes  from  London  to 
her  sister,  Mrs.  Cranch,  thus  : 

"Your  niece  is  engaged  to  a  gentleman  worthy 
of  her;  one,  whom  you  will  be  proud  to  take  by 
the  hand,  and  own  as  a  nephew.  I  cannot  pass 
a  higher  encomium  upon  him  than  to  say,  that 


MEMOIR.  113 

there  is  something  in  his  manners,  which  often 
reminds  me  of  my  dear  brother  Cranch.  With 
regard  to  his  person,  he  is  tall,  stender,  and  a  good 
figure,  a  complexion  naturally  dark,  but  made 
still  more  so  by  seven  years'  service  in  the  field, 
where  he  reaped  laurels  more  durable  than  the 
tincture  of  a  skin. 

He  appears  a  gentleman  in  every  thought, 
word,  and  action  ;  domestic  in  his  attachments, 
fond  in  his  affections,  quick  as  lightning  in  his 
feelings,  but  softened  in  an  instant ;  his  character 
is  that  of  a  dutiful  son,  and  most  affectionate 
brother.  He  trod  the  uncultivated  wilds  through 
the  Indian  country,  and  commanded  a  regiment 
under  General  Sullivan.  As  an  officer,  his  char 
acter  is  highly  meritorious  ;  as  a  citizen,  he  ap 
pears  all  that  a  man  ought  to  be,  who  loves  his 
country,  and  is  willing  to  devote  his  talents  to  the 
service  of  it." 

"  Her  voice  in  counsel,  in  the  fight  her  sword." 

Colonel  Smith  was  married  to  the  daughter  of 
Mr.  Adams  on  the  12th  June,  1786,  by  the  Bishop 
of  Saint  Asaph. 

During  his  residence  abroad,  he  officially  visit 
ed  the  Court  of  Lisbon,  had  a  public  audience 
with  the  Q,ueen,  and  arranged  the  public  business 
committed  to  his  charge,  in  a  manner  highly  sat 
isfactory  to  his  government.  Upon  the  change 
10* 


114  MEMOIR. 

of  the  Constitution,  and  the  return  of  Col.  Smith 
from  Europe,  General  Washington,  then  Presi 
dent  of  the  United  States,  appointed  him  Marshal 
of  the  District  of  New- York;  and  subsequently 
Supervisor  of  the  Revenue,  which  office  he  after 
some  time  resigned,  and  revisited  Europe. 

After  returning  from  his  European  visit,  Col. 
Smith  was  appointed,  when  the  country  was 
threatened  with  an  expected  war,  to  command  the 
troops  of  the  State  of  New-York,  and  being  joined 
by  the  regiments  of  Connecticut  and  New-Jersey, 
he  commanded  the  brigade  stationed  at  the  Scotch 
plains.  Upon  the  army  being  disbanded,  he  was 
appointed  Surveyor  and  Inspector  of  the  Customs 
and  port  of  New- York. 

After  the  death  of  the  Baron  Steuben,  who  was 
the  first  President  of  the  Cincinnati,  Colonel 
Smith  was  unanimously  elected  to  fill  that  office, 
which  he  held  for  many  years. 

In  1808,  he  retired  to  a  farm  at  Lebanon,  Mad 
ison  County,  State  of  New- York,  where  he  inter 
ested  himself  in  agricultural  pursuits,  until  1813, 
when  he  was  elected  member  of  Congress  to  rep 
resent  the  12th  and  13th  districts  of  the  State  of 
New- York.  This  situation  he  continued  to  fill 
until  the  year  previous  to  his  death,  which  took 
place  at  Lebanon,  on  the  10th  of  June,  18]  6,  at 
the  age  of  61. 

During   his  residence  at  Washington,  among 


MEMOIR.  115 

other  letters  to  the  editor,  he  addressed  the  fol 
lowing. 

Washington,  June  25th,  1813. 

MY  VERT  DEAR  DAUGHTER  : 

I  was  made  very  happy  by  the  receipt  of  your 
letter  of  the  7th.  I  have  enclosed  two  papers  to 
your  uncle  ;  they  contain  the  proceedings  of  the 
last  week.  I  am  appointed  a  member  of  a  com 
mittee,  to  inquire  whether  any,  and  if  any,  what 
provision  ought  to  be  made,  for  the  more  effectual 
protection  of  the  northwestern  frontier  of  the 
U.  S.  against  the  incursions  of  the  savages,  and 
other  enemies?  I  am  very  apprehensive  it  is  too 
late  to  consult  on  this  subject. 

The  British  have  landed  from  1,500,  to  2,000 
regular  troops,  below  Norfolk  ;  and  with  five  sail 
of  the  line,  and  attending  frigates,  sloops,  and 
schooners,  threaten  the  destruction  of  that  impor 
tant  city.  Our  great  folks  here  of  course  are  not 
on  a  bed  of  roses. 

It  is  a  great  blessing  to  us,  my  dear,  that  your 
unwearied  attentions  and  assiduities  have  not  im 
paired  your  health.  Heaven  will  bless  you,  for 
these  pointed  and  well-timed  exertions ;  they  ex 
cite  gratitude  in  my  mind  ;  my  affection  and  love 
for  you  cannot  be  increasd. 

I  am  your  affectionate 

Father  and  Friend, 

W.  S.  SMITH. 


116  MEMOIR. 

Admirable  as  was  his  character  in  every  relation 
of  life  —  faithful  as  was  the  discharge  of  all  his 
duties  —  in  the  parental,  it  was  perfection. 

TESTIMONIAL  OF  GENERAL  WASHINGTON.* 

Lieutenant  Col.  W.  S.  Smith,  entered  the  ser 
vice  of  the  United  States  at  the  commencement  of 
the  present  war.  In  August,  1776,  he  was  ap 
pointed  aid-de-camp  to  Major  General  Sullivan, 
with  the  rank  of  Major  in  the  Army.  On  the  1st 
of  January,  1777,  he  was  promoted  to  be  a  Lieut. 
Col.  in  one  of  the  additional  battalions  raised  by 
the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts.  After  which 
he  had  the  honour  of  serving  as  Inspector  and 
Adjutant  General  to  the  Corps  of  Light  Infantry, 
under  the  command  of  Major  General,  the  Mar 
quis  de  la  Fayette,  in  the  campaign  1779  ;  and  in 
the  month  of  July,  1781,  he  was  appointed  aid-de 
camp  to  the  Commander  in  chief  of  the  American 
armies  ;  in  all  which  military  stations,  he  behaved 
with  great  fidelity,  bravery,  and  good  conduct. 
During  the  course  of  service,  Col.  Smith  has  had 
many  opportunities  of  signalizing  himself  by  his 
gallantry,  intelligence,  and  professional  knowl 
edge,  in  the  several  battles,  enterprises,  and  sieges, 
at  which  he  has  been  present,  particularly  in  the 
actions  on  Long  Island,  and  Harlem  Heights,  at 

*  Extracted  from  the  Diplomatic  Correspondence,  published  by 
an  Act  of  Congress,  1832.  Vol.  v.  p.  372. 


MEMOIR.  117 

the  siege  of  Newport,  in  the  expedition  under  the 
order  of  Major  General  Sullivan,  against  the  sav 
ages,  in  the  battle  of  Springfield,  where  he  com 
manded  a  regiment,  the  successful  siege  of  York, 
in  Virginia,  where  the  army  of  Lord  Cornwallis 
surrendered  prisoners  of  war,  arid  on  many  other 
important  occasions.  In  consequence  of  which, 
he  hath  merited  my  approbation  and  this  testimony 
of  his  being  a  brave  and  valuable  officer. 

Given  under  my  hand  and  seal,  at  the  head 
quarters  of  the  American  army,  the  twenty-fourth 
of  June,  1782. 

G.  WASHINGTON. 


LETTERS. 


TO  COLONEL  W.  S.  SMITH,  PARIS. 

London,  Grosvenor  Square, 

August  13,  1785. 

DEAR  SIR  : 

Your  letter  from  Harwich,  dated  August  10, 
reached  us  upon  the  llth.  We  were  very  glad 
to  hear  of  your  arrival  there,  and  continue  to  fol 
low  you  with  our  good  wishes. 

When  you  tendered  me  your  services,  and  ask 
ed  my  commands,  I  did  not  know  you  had  any 
thoughts  of  returning  by  the  way  of  Paris  ;  other 
wise  1  should  have  charged  you  with  a  few.  I 
now  write  by  Mr.  Short,  requesting  your  care  of 
an  article  or  two  which  Mr.  Jefferson  will  be  so 
good  as  to  procure  for  me. 

Nothing  new  in  the  political  world  has  taken 
place  since  you  left  us,  but  a  fresh  report  by  way 
of  Minorca,  that  the  Algerines  had,  upon  the  13th 
of  July,  declared  war  against  America.  This  I 


120  LETTERS. 

suppose  is  circulated  now,  in  order  to  raise  the 
insurance  upon  the  few  American  vessels  ready 
to  sail.  The  report  says  that  twelve  of  their 
ships  are  ordered  to  cruise  in  the  Mediteranean 
for  ours ;  but  it  will  probably  be  so  long  before 
this  letter  will  reach  you,  that  what  is  news  now, 
will  not  be  so  then. 

I  have  taken  the  liberty,  sir,  of  requesting  Mr. 
Jefferson  to  introduce  you  to  two  gentlemen  and 
ladies ;  the  first  of  the  gentlemen  is  much  es 
teemed  in  the  world,  for  his  patronage  of  the  sci 
ences,  and  for  his  knowledge  and  skill  in  music 
and  poetry;  and  the  other  for  his  notable  exploits 
and  heroism.  One  of  the  ladies  is  of  a  very  ancient 
and  noble  family;  she  is  eminent  for  her  wisdom, 
and  exceedingly  fond  of  all  those  in  whom  she 
discovers  a  genius,  and  a  taste  for  knowledge ; 
the  other  is  a  single  lady,  remarkable  for  her  del 
icacy  and  modesty.  As  there  is  some  talk  of 
their  coming  to  London,  they  may  possibly  ac 
company  you  here.  There  will  be  no  difficulty 
on  account  of  the  language,  as  they  speak  one  as 
perfectly  as  they  do  the  other. 

I  had  some  idea  of  mentioning  a  young  gentle 
man  of  my  acquaintance,  whose  manners  are  very 
insinuating,  but  as  he  does  not  always  conduct 
himself  with  the  prudence  I  could  wish,  and  is 
very  fond  of  becoming  intimate,  his  company 
sometimes  proves  dangerous  ;  but  Mr.  Jefferson, 


LETTERS. 


121 


who  knows  them  all,  1  presume,  will  use  his  judg 
ment,  and  upon  that  you  may  safely  rely. 

I  hope  you  will  not  travel  so  rapidly  as  to  omit 
your  journal,  for  I  promise  myself  much  enter 
tainment  from  it  upon  your  return.  I  presume 
that  the  family  would  join  me  in  their  regards  to 
you,  if  they  knew  that  I  was  writing ;  yo.u  will, 
from  the  knowledge  you  have  of  them,  believe 
them  your  well  wishers  and  friends,  as  well  as 
your  humble  servant, 

A.  ADAMS. 


TO    COLONEL   SMITH,  MADRID. 

London,  May,  1787. 

MY  DEAR  SIR : 

I  have  written  you  only  a  few  lines  since  your 
absence ;  and  those  conveyed  to  you  rather  an 
unpleasing  account,  but  you  will  find  my  letter 
attended  with  so  many  others  of  a  different  com 
plexion,  that  I  hope  it  will  not  give  you  a  mo 
ment's  uneasiness.  Mrs.  Smith  is  now  very  well, 
and  sitting  here  at  the  table,  making  herself  a 
mourning  bonnet,  for  the  Princess  Carolina  Wil- 
helmina,  whom  neither  she  or  I  care  a  farthing 
for.  What  a  farce  this  court-mourning  isj  and 
indeed  most  other  European  mournings  out  of 
the  numerous  tribe  who  wear  the  garb,  how  few 
sorrowful  hearts  does  it  cover. 
11 


122 


LETTERS. 


Mrs.  Smith  has  given  you  the  history  of  the 
bills,  drawn  by  a  certain  house,  which  have  been 
noted  for  non-payment,  and  the  consequent  flight 
of  a  gentleman  and  family  to  America.  The 
amount  of  bills  noted,  Mr.  Parker  tells  me,  is  a 
hundred  thousand  pounds;  seventy-five  thousand 
guilders  for  the  payment  of  the  June  interest  is  a 
part.  When  this  took  place  Mr.  A.  wrote  to  his 
friends,  requesting  their  advice  what  step  could  be 
taken.  In  reply,  they  informed  him  that,  in  con 
sequence  of  delaying  only  two  days,  the  adver 
tising  the  payment  of  the  June  interest,  the  obli 
gations  had  fallen  two  per  cent.,  and  would  con 
tinue  to  depreciate,  unless  a  new  loan  was  opened. 
That  money  there  was  scarce,  and  could  riot  be 
obtained  at  less  than  eight  per  cent. ;  that  they  had 
called  the  brokers  together,  stated  the  matter  to 
them,  and  that  his  presence  was  necessary  imme 
diately  to  save  the  honour  and  credit  of  the  United 
States,  as  they  must  advance  on  their  own  ac 
count,  until  he  could  attend  to  sign  the  obliga 
tions.  No  time  was  to  be  lost,  and  at  two  day's 
notice  the  journey  commenced.  Mr.  Cutting  has 
gone  as  companion  and  secretary.  On  the  25th 
they  sat  out  ;  1  have  not  yet  heard  of  their  arrival. 
This  is  a  sad  stroke,  but  there  is  less  commotion 
here  in  consequence  of  it  than  could  have  been 
expected.  The  general  idea  is  that  the  house 
will  stand  it,  but  I  fear  the  contrary;  and  what 


LETTERS.  123 

Congress  will  say  to  the  step  taken  I  know  not ; 
yet  what  else  could  be  done  ?  Mr.  B.  has  drawn 
a  bill  for  three  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  since  you 
left  us,  or  rather  I  believe  it  has  been  accepted 
since  you  left  us.  Mr.  A.  must  protest  any  far 
ther  drafts,  should  they  come.  Nothing  certainly 
can  be  done  for  him  with  regard  to  his  private  af 
fairs,  how  muchsoever  we  may  feel  for  his  situa 
tion.  I  shall  forward  your  letter  last  night  receiv 
ed,  by  this  day's  post,  as  well  as  one  received  from 
Mr.  Swanwich  upon  the  same  subject.  So  here 
we  go  up.  and  there  we  go  down,  as  I  sing  to 
your  boy  every  day,  who  grows  so  fat  we  can 
scarcely  toss  him. 

As  to  news  here,  I  know  of  nothing  worth  com 
municating,  except  a  bill  which  has  passed,  mak 
ing  four  free  ports  in  the  West  Indies ;  Kingston 
in  Jamaica,  St.  George  in  Grenada,  Mosea  in  Do 
minica,  and  Nassau  in  New  Providence.  I  have 
not  seen  the  bill,  so  cannot  say  whether  America 
is  the  most  unfavoured  nation  in  it.  I  dare  say 
they  will  find  a  way  of  being  benefited  by  it. 

All  is  love  and  harmony  here.  The  Royal 
Father  and  Son,  are  perfectly  reconciled — the  one 
to  give,  and  the  other  to  receive.  The  household 
is  again  established,  the  jeweller  in  a  hopeful  way 
of  receiving  his  thirty  thousand  debt,  the  confec 
tioner  his  seven,  and  even  the  spur  maker  his 
hundreds, 


124  LETTERS. 

Mr.  Hartley  has  just  made  me  a  morning  visit. 
He  has  had  a  return  of  his  disorder,  though  not 
so  bad  as  before.  He  is  going  to  write  to  you, 
therefore  it  is  needless  to  say  more  about  him,  for 
if  his  pen  is  half  as  prolific  as  his  tongue,  he  will 
not  need  an  assistant. 

We  are  to  have  a  large  party  to  dine  with  us 
to-day,  invited  previous  to  Mr.  A.'s  excursion ;  I 
have  engaged  Mr.  Shippen  as  an  assistant.  Of 
the  number  is  Sir  George  Stanton  and  Mr.  Hollis. 
I  cannot  tell  how  much  we  miss  you ;  in  short  if 
it  was  not  for  the  boy.  it  would  be  dummy  all. 

We  begin  to  dine  abroad  again,  and  I  hope  to 
prevail  with  Mrs.  Smith  to  go  into  the  country 
for  a  little  excursion,  when  Sir  returns;  but  she  is 
rather  averse  to  the  idea,  and  says  without  she 
had  some  one  to  go  and  see,  she  cannot  find  a 
pleasure  in  it. 

Remember  me  to  Mr.  Harrison  when  you  meet. 
I  have  a  most  sincere  esteem  for  him,  and  fre 
quently  drink  his  health  in  the  good  wine  which 
he  procured  for  us.  If  any  vessel  should  be 
bound  for  Boston,  request  the  favour  of  him  to 
ship  two  such  casks  of  wine  for  that  port,  as  he 
imported  here  for  us,  addressed  to  Isaac  Smith, 
merchant,  Boston,  and  draw  his  bill  here  for  the 
payment  of  it.  The  sooner  he  does  it  the  more 
agreeable  to  us. 

It  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  say  a  word  about 


LETTERS.  125 

return,  till  at  least  you  reach  the  place  for  which 
you  sat  out.  So  I  waive  that  subject,  only  observ 
ing  that  the  sooner  it  is,  the  more  agreeable  it 
will  be  to  your  affectionate  friend,  A.  A. 


i. 
York  House,  Dover,  April  26th,  1787. 

I  dare  say,  my  friend,  when  you  receive  this,  you 
will  think  I  have  moved  with  great  rapidity. 

There  have  but  two  things  occurred  on  the  road 
which  are  worth  mentioning ;  the  one  is  my  having 
met  Mr.  Rucker  ;  we  stopped,  jumped  out  of  our 
carriages,  I  into  the  dust,  and  he  out  of  it;  he  had 
a  great  coat  on,  and  his  beard  he  brought  from 
Paris  with  him  ;  I  wonder  how  it  passed  the  cus. 
torn-house  officers  at  this  place,  for  they  are  as 
sharp  as  need  be.  As  to  the  other,  it  happened 
between  this  and  Canterbury  ;  but  I  must  insist  in 
the  first  place  that  you  do  not  receive  it  as  a  Can 
terbury  story.  Well,  silence  gives,  or  at  least  in 
this  instance  must  pass  for,  consent,  which  being 
granted,  I  proceed  to  this  ignus  fatuus.  or  Jack- 
o-lanthorn  story. 

Curioni  was  perched,  bolt  upright,  in  front  of 
the  postillions,  who  were  lashing  their  nags  and 
clattering  away,  as  if  ten  thousand  musquetoes 
were  after  them,  when  behold,  we  found  ourselves 
upon  an  extended  plain,  and  the  sable  curtains  of 


126  LETTERS. 

the  night  falling  apace  :  what  was  to  be  done  in 
this  case  ?  Some  would  attempt  an  answer  here, 
but  I,  like  Will-o-the-Wisp,  am  above  this,  and 
proceed  to  tell  you  what  I  did  —  I  took  out  my 
little  tin  case,  and  with  a  match  lighted  the 
lamps.  The  horses  stopped,  Curioni  rose  perpen 
dicular  and  cried  :  "  Sir,  I  begged  them  not  to  be 
alarmed,  but  the  one  to  set  down,  and  the  other  to 
drive  on,  that  no  one  would  hurt  them."  "  Oh," 
said  the  postillion,  "what's  this?"  "Phosphor," 
said  I;  crack  went  the  whip,  and  they  moved  with 
such  rapidity,  it  struck  me  they  were  anxious  to 
arrive  at  some  inhabited  place,  and  wished  them 
selves  safe  home  again.  I  must  not  practise  this  in 
Spain  or  Portugal,  or  I  may  be  detained. 

Yours, 

w.  s.  s. 

ii. 

Calais,  27th  April. 

I  wrote  you,  my  dear  friend,  the  last  evening 
from  Dover,  and  I  have  now  the  pleasure  of  in 
forming  you,  that  in  twenty-four  hours  after  I  left 
Grosvenor  Square,  I  entered  this  harbour  in  a 
French  long-boat ;  it  being  low  water,  the  packet 
could  not  enter.  You  have  passed  here,  and  doubt 
less  must  have  observed  the  different  lines  of  char 
acter  on  the  oppsite  shores;  they  are  legible;  but, 
as  Burke  says,  "it  is  difficult  for  those  who  run, 


LETTERS.  127 

to  read  them;"  therefore  I  shall  not  attempt  to  de 
lineate  them,  lest  I  should  expose  myself  to  the 
observations  of  a  lady,  who  I  think  is  disposed  to 
make  some  observations  on  life  and  manners  as 
she  passes ;  and  who  having  passed  the  same 
scenes,  is  fully  competent  to  make  every  just  and 
judicious  comment.  Can  you  turn  to  your  jour 
nal,  and  let  me  know  what  is  noted  on  this  subject? 

A  knock  at  the  door — enters  a  monk.  Will  you 
take  a  chair,  monk?  "  I  am  much  obliged,  sir.  you 
are  very  polite  ;  I  take  the  liberty  of  waiting  on 
you,  sir,  to  wish  you  a  good  voyage  and  beg  your 
attention  to  our  convent."  By  all  means,  sir,  I 
am  happy  in  having  it  in  my  power  to  contribute 
my  mite  to  the  funds  of  so  great,  so  good,  and  so 
benevolent  an  establishment  —  tenez,  Monsieur. 

Monk.  "I  am  much  obliged,  the  prayers  of  the 
convent  will  attend  you,  sir,  on  your  route,  and 
they  will  entreat  le  bon  Dieu,  that  success  may  at 
tend  your  pursuits  :"  adieu,  Monsieur.  I  spoke 
French  immediately  on  my  landing,  and  have 
been  stammering  at  it  ever  since. 

The  monk  has  spoiled  my  letter;  Curioni  has 
not  yet  arrived,  and  it  rains  too  hard  for  me  to  go 
out  to  look  after  him  or  the  vessel :  they  will  not 
be  here  one  moment  sooner  for  my  getting  wet 
and  satisfying  my  curiosity.  Patience  is  a  virtue, 
and  I  will  nourish  it.  Yours, 

W.  S.  B. 


128  LETTERS. 


III. 

Roye,  in  Picardy,  April  27th,  1787. 
On  Friday  evening,  I  wrote  you  from  Calais, 
No.  2,  as  soon  as  I  had  sufficiently  recovered  from 
the  indisposition  which  crossing  a  rough  water 
generally  occasions ;  and  having  taken  the  route 
to  Paris  by  the  way  of  St.  Omar's,  I  now  write 
from  the  town  of  Roye,  in  Picardy,  about  twenty 
miles  southeast,  or  further  inland  than  Amiens : 
and  I  cannot  recollect  any  other  circumstance 
than  a  prospect  of  meeting  you,  my  dear,  on  the 
route,  that  could  induce  me  ever  to  travel  the  lower 
road  again.  If  you  permit  your  imagination  to 
draw  the  most  pointed  contrast  possible,  touching 
the  two extremesof  charming  and  disagreeable, and 
connect  the  former  with  the  route  I  am  on,  and  al 
lotting  to  and  closely  connecting  the  latter  with  the 
journey  through  Boulogne,  Abbeville,  Amiens, 
&c.,  you  may  form  some  idea  of  the  difference.  As 
for  myself,  I  do  not  recollect  ever  passing  a  more 
agreeable  country,  as  to  the  general  face  of  it ;  arid 
it  is  under  as  high  cultivation  as  the  present  ge 
nius  of  the  government  will  admit ;  you  traverse 
it  on  ires  beaux  chemins,  on  either  side  of  which 
the  eye  is  gratified  with  fields  — fertile  en  bles 
and  abondant  en  paturages,  en  lin,  en  houblon 
in  their  proper  seasons.  I  lodged  at  Arras  last 
night ;  it  is  the  capital  of  the  province  of  Artois  in 


LETTERS.  129 

the  French  Netherlands,  and  remarkable  for  its 
fine  tapestry.  On  this  day's  journey,  by  the  way 
side  I  shot,  and  am  now  possessed  of,  four  fine  par 
tridges  and  a  pigeon,  on  which  I  propose  to  dine 
at  Paris  to-morrow.  But  in  addition  to  these  agree 
able  mixtures  of  a  little  sport  with  rapid  move 
ments,  I  passed  through  the  noted  town  of  Pe- 
ronne,  in  Picardy,  situated  on  the  river  Somme. 
It  is  remarkable  for  being  the  place  where  Louis 
the  XI  of  France,  had  an  interview  with  Charles 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  and  though  of  a  suspicious, 
wary,  and  remarkably  cautious  temper,  he  in  this 
case  committed  his  person  and  his  crown ;  and 
Charles  after  keeping  him  confined  in  the  castle 
for  three  days  in  doubt  what  course  to  pursue,  re 
leased  him  on  certain  humiliating  conditions. 
Whether  it  would  have  been  happier  for  this  king 
dom,  that  Charles  should  have  taken  such  an  ad 
vantage  of  the  situation  of  Louis  as  to  have  de 
prived  him  of  the  crown,  I  will  not  take  upon  me 
to  decide.  It  is  however  clear  that  he  overturned 
the  power  of  the  Barons,  and  brought  the  interests 
of  the  kingdom  nearly  to  a  point.  But  every  art 
of  his  reign  was  marked  either  with  real  or  in 
tended  perfidy.  The  traits  in  his  character  which 
come  under  the  column  of  virtue,  are  only  those 
of  "policy  and  artifice  ;"  and  his  vices  being  those 
of  the  "  disposition  and  of  the  heart,"  form  a  long 
catalogue,  unnecessary  to  be  forwarded  to  Eng- 


130  LETTERS. 

land.  I  gazed  on  the  tower  which  held  him,  with 
a  pensive  mind,  and  then  moved  to  the  gate  where 
the  famous  Count  de  St.  Pol  was  delivered  up  to 
Louis,  by  order  of  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  and 
carried  to  Paris  and  beheaded.  These  affairs  took 
place  in  the  latter  part  of  the  fifteenth  century,  and 
are  interesting  as  forming  links  in  the  great  chain 
of  the  History  of  those  days,  and  give  an  addi 
tional  pleasure  in  traversing  these  kingdoms,  to 
those  who  have  looked  back  into  history,  and  who 
are  disposed  to  contemplate  the  past  and  the  pre 
sent,  and  look  to  the  future  with  the  pleasing  pros 
pect  of  improvement.  It  is  rendered  very  evident 
that  the  o-eneral  situation  of  man  is  rendered  better. 

C5 

Society  has  greatly  improved,  and  individuals  are 
sheltered  from  private  and  personal  injury,  by  the 
establishment  of  just  and  equitable  laws.  These 
points  did  not  operate  on  this  theatre  at  the  periods 
mentioned ;  and  the  reign  of  Louis  the  XI,  was 
more  strongly  marked  with  oppression,  private 
murder,  public  execution,  and  general  injustice, 
than  that  of  almost  any  other  prince  whom  history 
mentions.  But  why  do  I  run  wild  after  the  vices  of 
antiquity ;  or  why  have  I  painted  them  to  you  ? 
Perhaps  it  arises  from  my  being  on  the  spot  where 
these  things  were  transacted. 

Yours, 

w.  s.  s. 


LETTERS.  131 

IV. 

Paris,  April  28th. 

I  wrote  you  last  night  from  Roye,  and  agreea 
ble  to  my  intention  then  expressed,  I  dined  at  this 
place.  Having  before  I  left  London  informed  Mr. 
Short  of  my  intention  of  putting  up  while  here, 
either  with  him  or  very  near  him.  I  ordered  the 
postillion  from  St.  Dennis,  to  the  Hotel  de  L'Amer- 
ique.  I  found  a  very  polite  note  from  Short,  ex 
cusing  his  absence,  and  begging  me  to  rely  on  the 
politeness  of  Pettit  until  his  return,  which  will  be 
in  the  morning.  I  alighted  and  found  everything 
arranged  for  my  accommodation. 

Having  killed  eleven  partridges,  I  made  quite  a 
figure  as  a  sportsman  on  my  entrance.  On  my 
arrival  at  the  several  posts,  I  got  out,  left  Curio 
to  change  the  horses,  and  taking  my  large  pistols, 
advanced  on  the  road,  and  twice  or  three  times 
had  killed  a  brace,  before  the  carriage  overtook  me. 

This  night  I  suppose  the  gentlemen  have  re 
turned  from  Portsmouth. 

After  I  have  seen  Madame  de  la  Payette,  the 
Marquis,  ajid  the  Count  Sarsefield,  perhaps  I  shall 
be  able  to  give  you  some  Parisian  news  :  but  now 
I  have  seen  no  one.  and  am  alone  in  the  house ; 
Curio  has  gone  to  see  his  friends  in  the  city,  and 
Pettit  has  made  his  bow  for  the  night.  It  is  time 
for  rne  to  close  this  fourth  article.  Yours, 

w,  s.  s. 


132  LETTERS. 


v. 


Paris,  May  5th,  7  o'clock,  P.  M. 

In  the  first  place  I  dined  with  our  friend  the 
Marquis,  the  day  after  my  arrival ;  and  he  express 
ed  a  great  anxiety,  nay  insisted  upon  my  seeing 
him  at  Versailles  on  Wednesday.  I  did  so  ;  and 
rinding  a  great  deal  of  interesting  matter  on  the 
carpet  relative  to  my  country,  was  induced  to 
stay,  until  this  day,  which  I  have  spent  with 
him.  Our  dinner  was  so  perfectly  to  my  taste, 
that  I  must  give  you  a  small  sketch  of  it. 

There  were  only  us  two  ;  the  table  was  laid 
with  great  neatness.  By  the  side  of  each  was 
fixed,  (I'll  call  it)  a  dumb  waiter.  On  which 
was  placed  half  a  dozen  clean  plates,  knives  and 
forks,  and  a  small  bell  in  the  one  near  the  Mar 
quis,  and  the  servants  retired.  The  first  course 
being  over,  he  rung  the  bell  and  it  was  removed 
for  the  second.  Thus  we  spent  an  hour  and  a 
half  with  great  ease  and  friendship;  not  incom 
moding  the  servants,  nor  being  subject  to  their 
inspection.  Indeed  the  arrangement  was  charm 
ing;  and  being  so,  I  know  my  friend  will  recollect 
it  hereafter.  Exclusive  of  the  disagreeable  circum 
stance  of  having  servants  hearing  the  conversa 
tion,  I  feel  some  pain  always  while  at  dinner,  or 
rather  I  feel  myself  hurried  —  and  that  my  in 
feriors  in  that  situation,  may  be  as  soon  relieved 


LETTERS.  133 

as  possible.     I  endeavour  to  expedite   the  affair 
that  they  may  be  dismissed,  and  every  day  when 
they  attend  I  experience  the  same  feeling.    Now  T 
am  travelling  I  act  myself  on  this  subject;  I  get  my 
dinner  in  peace,  and  Curio  is  attended  by  the  do 
mestics  ;    he  is  welcome,  and  perhaps  is  pleased 
with  it.     For  myself,  I  shall  always  nourish  a  dis 
position  to  treat  my  equals  with  friendship  and 
civility,  and  those  whose  stations  in  life  are  su 
perior  to  mine,  exactly  as  their  conduct  towards 
me  merits,  or  their  virtues  demand  ;  but  to  those 
whom  fortune  has  placed  in  the  inferior  grade,  I 
will,  in  as  few  instances  as  possible,  make  them 
sensible  of  their  inferiority,  or  take  advantage  of 
my  station ;    but  enough  of  this.     You  will,  my 
dear,  communicate  to  your  papa,  that  the  non-pay 
ment  of  the  interest  of  the  debt  due  from  America 
to  France,  has  produced  a  disagreeable  sensation  ; 
but  that  in  the  report  of  the  committe  at  Versailles, 
on  Wednesday  last,  on  the  resources  and  expecta 
tions  of  the  kingdom,  that  point  was  touched  with 
the  greatest  delicacy  possible  ;  they  nourish  a  dis 
position  to  confide  in  the  justice  of  our  country, 
but  they  could  not  register  that  debt  in  the  column 
of  certain  revenue  ;    this  is  disagreeable.     I  find 
also,  an  arret  published  relative  to  their  West  In 
dia  trade,  which  in  the  article  of  salt  fish,  puts  us 
upon  a  worse  footing  there,  than  we  have  hitherto 
been  ;    it  was  published  in  February  last,  and  it 
12 


134  LETTERS. 

is  expected  by  our  friends  here,  will  in  some  de 
gree  interfere  with  that  lucrative  branch  of  eastern 
commerce.  I  also,  to  my  great  surprise,  find  that 
Monsieur  De  Calenne's  letter  of  the  22d  of  October 
last,  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  on  the  subject  of  the  Amer 
ican  trade,  is  not  yet  passed  the  Council,  and  of 
course  those  who  sail  from  our  country,  in  expec 
tation  of  its  produce  being  received  here  agreeably 
to  the  statement  of  that  letter,  will  be  disappointed ; 
some  already  have  experienced  the  inconvenience 
of  its  not  having  passed.  This,  if  not  speedily 
remedied,  will  produce  a  disagreeable  sensation. 
Monsieur  Evorqueux  the  comptroller  general,  re 
tired  from  office  yesterday  morning,  and  it  is  ex 
pected  Monsieur  de  Villedeuel,  late  intendant  of 
Rouen,  will  be  appointed.  He  is  said  to  be  an 
honest,  sensible  man,  a  friend  of  the  Marquis  de  la 
Fayette  ;  who  in  conjunction  with  the  Archbishop 
of  Toulouse,  President  of  the  Council  of  Finance, 
ai;d  Minister  of  State,  are  expected  to  act  upon 
every  American  question,  on  a  more  enlarged  sys 
tem  than  has  hitherto  been  ;  and  the  latter  said 
yesterday,  that  the  first  moment  the  Council  could 
find  time  to  take  up  the  subject,  it  (viz.  Mr.  de 
Calenne's  letter,)  should  be  registered,  and  those 
who  had  been  under  the  necessity  of  paying  duties 
on  articles  there  enumerated,  should  have  their 
money  returned,  (fee.  (fee.  In  short,  from  the 
changes  which  have  taken  place  in  the  cabinet  of 
this  court,  America  has  better  prospects  in  the 


LETTERS.  135 

line  of  commerce  and  friendship  than  heretofore. 
The  Archbishop  of  Toulouse  is  virtuous,  humane, 
and  enlightened.     Monsieur  de  Villedeuel  is  con 
fided  in  by  him;  Monsieur  Montmorin  is  well  dis 
posed  towards  America,  and  they  all  respect  and 
esteem  Lafayette,  who  stands  in  a  most  enviable 
point  of  view  in  the  national  mind;  so  that  though 
the  letter  referred  to  has  not  had  the  effect  intend 
ed  relative  to  the  alteration  of  duties  in  the  ports 
frequented  by  Americans,  there  is  every  reason  to 
expect  it  will  take  place  in  a  few  days  ;  and  there 
does  not  seem  to  be  a  doubt  but  Honfleur  will  be 
also  made  a  free  port  ;  it  is  situated  at  the  mouth 
of  the  River  Seine,  opposite  to  Havre  de  Grace. 
I  hope  my  friend  will  not  be  tired  with  this  polit 
ical  detail,  and  that  she  will  be  pleased  to  inform 
her  papa,  that  I  think  information  of  this  kind, 
contained  in  a  letter  addressed  to  you,  will  pass 
better  guarded  from  curiosity  and  inspection,  than 
if  addressed  to  His  Excellency,  &c.    The  Marquis 
tells  me  he  had  wrote  a  long  letter,  containing  a 
statement  of  an  ambitious  project,  and  that  he  re 
quested  you  to  reserve  it  until  my  return,  should 
I  be  absent  when  it  arrived     I  have  given  him 
assurances  of  its  being  sacred.     I  have  been  once 
to  the  theatre  to  see  the  famous  tigers.      There 
has  an  astonishing  change  taken  place  in  the  the 
atres  of  France ;  the  two  last  times  I  was  here,  I 
was  pleased  with  the  display  of  female  beauty  ; 
but  upon  my  word,  I  have  not  seen  a  handsome 


136  LETTERS. 

woman  since  I  have  been  in  the  kingdom.  Per 
haps  I  shall  see  some  in  Spain  or  Portugal  —  no, 
there  they  wear  veils.  Adieu.  Yours, 

w.  s.  g. 


VI. 

Blois,  Thursday  evening,  May  10th  or  llth. 

MY  DEAR  AMELIA  : 

I  am  well,  and  wrote  No.  5  from  Paris  on  the 
6th  inst. — since  which  I  have  been  silent.  The 
place  I  now  write  from  is  situated  on  the  Loire, 
and  I  think  in  the  Province  of  Orleans.  I  put 
up  a  little  before  seven,  that  I  might  inform  my 
Amelia  of  my  progress,  and  have  an  opportunity 
of  viewing  this  town,  so  renowned  in  history. 
But  before  I  say  anything  of  it,  I  must  observe, 
that  in  this  day's  journey  I  have  been  vastly  de 
lighted  with  the  general  face  of  the  country,  and 
having  lodged  at  Tours  last  night,  I  passed 
through  the  noted  city  of  Orleans  this  morning. 
It  is  beautifully  situated  on  the  Loire,  over  which 
a  very  magnificent  bridge  is  cast,  presenting  nine 
lively,  extensive  arches.  It  strikes  me  as  a  well- 
built  and  well-arranged  town,  considering  its  an 
tiquity  :  but  I  find  other  travellers  have  received 
other  impressions,  and  have  painted  it  in  other 
colours.  In  its  main  street  is  erected  the  famous 
monument  of  Charles  the  Seventh,  and  the  Maid 
of  Orleans ;  whose  history  I  suppose  you  are  in 
some  degree  acquainted  with.  She  made  her  ap- 


LETTERS.  137 

pearance  in  the  year  1429,  while  the  city  was  be 
sieged  by  the  English,  and  while  Charles  was  on 
the  point  of  giving  up  all  hopes  of  being  able  to 
raise  it,  and  meditated  a  disgraceful  retreat;  this 
village  girl  roused  the  desponding  spirits  of  her 
countrymen,  seized  the  Royal  standard,  and  led 
the  troops  on  to  conquer  ;  and  by  actions  as  bril 
liant  as  any  which  history  records  of  the  greatest 
veterans,  established  the  crown  on  the  brow  of 
her  sovereign,  which  before  her  appearance  was 
tottering  to  its  fall.  She  first  showed  herself  under 
the  title  of  Joan  of  Arc,  and  after  the  action  refer 
red  to,  was  known  by  the  name  of  the  Maid  of  Or 
leans.  The  famous  circumstance  took  place  on  the 
present  month,  which,  with  a  little  aid  of  imagi 
nation,  I  improved, run  through  the  various  scenes, 
and  casting  several  animated  glances  over  the 
fields  and  round  the  works,  I  felt  as  if — but  you 
wish  those  feelings  not  to  be  encouraged,  so  we'll 
let  them  pass  undescribed — but  when  you  consid 
er  the  reverence  I  have  for  great  and  glorious  ac 
tions,  actions  capable  of  producing  happiness  to 
thousands,  and  protecting  the  injured  and  op 
pressed,  you  may  possibly  form  some  idea  of  my 
feelings,  when  I  tread  the  ground  where  heroes 
for  ages  past,  have  fought  and  bled.  But  I 
must  beg  you  will  not  let  your  imagination  run 
too  far  on  this  subject,  lest  by  the  time  I  get  into 
Spain,  you  may  fancy  that  I  am  mounted  on 
Rosinante,  pacing  after  adventures.  The  idea 
12* 


138  LETTERS. 

has  induced  me  to  rise  and  consult  the  glass.  It 
is  so.  I  am  in  reality,  (and  before  I  have  reach 
ed  the  Don's  Theatre)  become  the  Knight  of  the 
Woeful  Countenance,  and  I  am  here — I  have  rea 
son.  I  took  a  solitary  walk  before  night,  to  an  old 
and  decayed  castle,  over-grown  with  moss,  and 
labouring  with  a  solemn  gloom,  as  if  the  very 
battlements  themselves  were  conscious  of  the 
scenes  which  have  been  transacted  within  its 
walls.  In  this  place  the  Duke  of  Guise  fell  a 
victim  to  the  vengeance  of  Henry  the  Third,  and 
the  Cardinal,  his  brother,  shared  the  same  fate.  Is 
abella  of  Baria,  and  Mary  of  Medicis,  two  queens, 
were  here  imprisoned.  Valenica  of  Milan,  Anne 
of  Bretagne,  and  her  daughter  Claude,  and  the 
famous  Catharine  of  Medicis,  finished  their  days 
within  these  walls.  On  the  other  hand,  Louis 
the  Twelfth,  a  great  and  good  prince  was  born 
here,  and  the  nuptials  of  Margaret  of  Valois,  sis 
ter  to  Francis  the  First  and  Margaret  the  Second, 
wife  to  Henry  the  Fourth,  were  also  solemnized. 
I  walked  through  the  several  apartments  alone  un 
til  near  dark.  It  is  magnificent  in  ruins,  and  may 
be  considered  as  a  column,  capable  of  presenting  to 
the  mind  interesting  pictures  of  the  transactions  of 
three  or  four  hundred  years  back,  provided  that 
mind  is  disposed  to  retrospect  and  contemplate. 
There  are  tales  related  about  transactions  in  this 
castle  which  would  chill  your  young  blood,  and  an 
swer  no  end  for  me  to  relate,  for  I  am  a  professed 


LETTERS.  139 

enemy  to  sorrow  and  sadness.  I  find  the  face  of  Na 
ture  on  the  banks  of  this  river  smiles  ;  the  whole 
country  has  signs  of  wealth  and  plenty  —  but  the 
inhabitants  in  general,  do  not  appear  as  if  they 
enjoyed  the  fruits  of  it.  I  look  with  an  eye  of 
superior  compassion  on  the  lower  classes,  and 
particularly  the  females  in  that  grade.  They 
seem  to  bear  the  heat  and  burthen  of  the  day,  as 
sisted  by  some  old  man  ;  the  young  ones  who  are 
good  for  any  thing,  are  king's  men,  and  wear 
his  livery.  I  could  enter  deeply  into  the  chapter 
of  lamentations  if  I  dare,  but  I  must  have  room 
to  beg  you  will  present  me  respectfully  to  Sir  and 
to  mamma.  w.  s.  s. 


VII. 

Bordeaux,  May  14th,  Monday,  1787. 
MF  FRIEND: 

I  wrote  No.  6  from  the  famous  city  of  Blois,  in 
the  county  of  Orleans,  on  Thursday  night  last,  the 
llth  inst.,  and  gave  you  a  very  lame  account  of 
it  and  its  history  —  but  that  you  cannot  help  — 
since  which  I  have  passed,  and  it  is  needless  to 
say  rapidly,  through  the  counties  of  Touraine, 
Poitou,  Angoumois,  and  with  a  whizzing  kind  of  a 
humming  brain,  find  myself  comfortably  seated 
in  the  Hotel  of  the  Grand  Emperor,  in  the  famous 
city  of  Bordeaux,  on  the  River  Garonne,  which 
falls  into  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  and  is  called  the 
Capital  of  Bourdelois,  Guienne,  and  Gascony.  It 


140  LETTERS. 

carries  on  an  extensive  trade,  chiefly  in  wines,  and 
the  river  is  now  well  filled  with  ships,  and  I  have 
sent  Curio  to  find  out  whether  there  are  any  from 
America  ;  if  there  are,  what  are  the  names  of  the 
captains,  where  they  are  bound  to,  and  when  they 
sail,  &c.  &c.  I  do  not  recollect  that  I  have  given 
my  friend  an  account  of  the  mode  in  which  I  get 
along.  I  get  a  cup,  or  two,  or  three,  or  four,  of 
tea,  at  or  about  six,  every  morning  before  I  start, 
and  after  I  am  shaved  and  combed,  for  I  find  I 
cannot,  even  when  alone  and  in  a  country  where 
I  am  not  known  from  Adam  — 'without  the  s  — 
alias  the  husband  of  Eve  —  get  over  this  trick  of 
doing  myself  up  before  I  take  my  tea.  Finding 
myself  now  wound  up,  that  is  to  say,  ready  to  go, 
I  get  into  this  gig,  (a  neater  never  run  the  roads 
of  France)  and  continue  going  as  if  you,  my  dear, 
was  to  be  found  at  the  end  of  the  day's  journey, 
until  night  drops  her  curtain,  which  is  about  8, 
P.  M.  The  last  stage,  Curio  takes  a  horse,  and 
arriving  about  an  half  hour  before  me,  I  find  a 
chamber  well  arranged,  and  the  table  laid  for 
dinner,  which  being  served  and  eat,  bed  dressed 
and  warmed,  I  generally  get  asleep  by  ten,  and 
up  again  at  five,  go  the  same  career.  I  find  I  can 
thus  without  the  least  difficulty,  take  as  much  rest 
as  I  want,  and  travel  from  80  to  100  miles  a  day. 
Indeed  I  have  thus  far  passed  on  lightly,  and  have 
not  encountered  one  disagreeable  circumstance, 
nor  been  put  once  out  of  humour ;  in  short,  I  am 


LETTERS.  141 

more  and  more  convinced,  that  nineteen  twenti 
eths  of  the  disagreeables  and  inconveniences  of 
life  arise  from  the  powers  of  the  imagination, 
which,  agreeably  to  Mr.  Jennings,  always  stand 
ready  in  the  absence  of  real  misfortune,  to  plague 
and  torment  the  man,  (and  I  suppose  the  lady  too) 
who  will  permit  himself  to  be  made  the  dupe  of 
it. 

You  mention  the  arrival  of  Messrs.  Norris  and 
Fox,  and  the  receipt  of  the  Marquis'  letter.  I 
think  I  am  before  you  on  the  subject  of  a  proper 
confidence,  as  one  of  my  letters  from  Paris  will 
show  you.  Well,  there  is  a  satisfation  in  gener 
osity  which  none  but  the  generous  know. 

I  had  got  thus  far  by  seven  o'clock,  when  Mr. 
French  came  to  pay  his  respects.  He  seemed 
disposed  to  be  easy  and  pleasant :  it  put  me  in 
good  humour,  and  as  I  had  been  most  scrupulous 
ly  silent  for  six  days,  I  gave  a  loose  to  my  tongue, 
and  was  so  very  agreeable  that  the  little  gentle 
man,  at  a  half  past  ten,  attempted  to  apologize  for 
the  length  of  his  visit,  but  said  he  scarcely  knew 
how  to  go.  Well  thinks  I  this  is  too  barefaced, 
to  set  three  hours  and  a  half  on  the  first  visit,  and 
then  go  with  reluctance,  it's  a  polite  thing  enough. 
I  am  to  be  with  him  to-morrow,  at  the  time  the 
post  arrives  to  receive  another  letter,  but  it  will 
not  be  answered  with  this,  for  it  leaves  me  in  the 
morning. 

Sweet  is  the  lovely  blush  of  orient  morn,  and 


142  LETTERS. 

the  smooth  surface  of  the  blue  serene  in  ocean's 
mirror  —  sweet  the  fragrant  earth  arrayed  in  ver 
nal  bloom,  pleasant  the  stream  rolling  its  grateful 
tide  after  soft  showers,  and  other  visions  the  gay 
mind  could  dream ;  but  neither  orient  morn 
"when  she  ascends  with  charm  of  earliest  dawn," 
nor  blue  serene  on  the  unruffled  forehead  of  the 
deep,  nor  vernal  earth,  nor  river's  swelling  pride, 
nor  all  those  visions  the  gay  mind  could  dream, 
so  sweetly  ravish  the  delighted  eye,  or  bathe  the 
soul  in  bliss  so  exquisite,  as  the  far-beaming 
light  from  infant  heir  to  the  fond  parent,  whose 
yearning  heart,  full  many  a  day  has  pined  in 
deep  despair.  Oh  how  I  long  to  amuse  the 
boy,  and  clasp  his  tender  mother  to  my  bosom ; 
to  see  him  smile,  and  find  her  deeply  interested 
in  the  scene,  has  charms  for  me  beyond  the  power 
of  language  to  describe.  Remember  me  to  papa 
and  mamma ;  kiss  Steuben  for  me,  and  be 
lieve  me  your  affectionate  friend  and  lover, 

\v.  s.  s. 


VIII. 


Bordeaux, 
May  19th,  1787,  7  o'clock,  evening. 

MY  DEAREST  FRIEND  I 

I  wrote  No.  7  from  this  on  the  14th  and  15th, 
since  which  I  have  been  engaged  in  examining 


LETTERS.  143 

the  ancient  curiosities  of  the  place,  and  paying 
some  attention  to  modern  improvements.  With 
that  I  was  done  yesterday,  and  Curio  having  got 
every  thing  ready  for  moving,  I  should  have  set 
off  this  morning  agreeably  to  my  intentions  when 
I  left  Paris,  hut  having  received  a  letter  from  Old 
Harrison,  that  Mr.  Carmichael  had  forwarded  by 
the  post  a  royal  passport,  and  some  letters  of  in 
troduction  to  his  friends  on  the  route  to  Madrid, 
I  have  thought  best  to  wait  the  arrival  of  the  post, 
as  those  papers  may  possibly  be  of  some  service 
on  the  road.  But  another,  and  not  less  powerful 
reason,  reconciled  me  to  the  delay  —  and  that  is, 
that  it  is  probable  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  re 
ceiving  No.  2  from  my  Amelia.  The  receipt  of 
No.  1  being  fully  answered,  I  shall  not  say  any 
more  on  that,  and  shall  take  the  opportunity  of  the 
necessary  halt  which  must  be  made  at  Bayonne, 
for  the  purpose  of  getting  mules  and  Spanish 
money,  to  inform  my  friend  of  my  arrival,  after 
which  perhaps  it  may  not  be  in  my  power  to  for 
ward  another  until  my  arrival  at  Madrid  ;  but  of 
this  I  cannot  be  certain.  No.  7  was  filled  up  I  do 
not  now  know  how,  but  I  believe  it  took  two  sheets, 
and  I  have  no  copy,  but  as  far  as  my  recollection 
serves  me,  it  did  not  touch  upon  my  route  from 
Orleans  or  any  thing  like  it. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  trouble  you  with  a  list  of 
the  towns  or  villages  I  passed  through.  I  shall 
content  myself  with  observing  that  after  passing 


144  LETTERS. 

through  the  city  of  Orleans,  we  bid  adieu  to  the 
paved  roads ;  this  was  a  very  agreeable  circum 
stance  to  me,  and  particularly  so  to  Curio,  whose 
seat  on  the  front  wheels  became  more  easy  than 
before.  This  route  is  most  delightful ;  it  con 
tinues  close  to  the  Loire  for  the  greatest  part  of 
two  day's  journey,  and  runs  the  same  course  to 
Nantes.  But  taking  the  route  to  Bordeaux,  you 
cross  at  Tours  a  very  beautiful  bridge,  and  pas 
sing  through  the  town  by  a  very  handsome  street 
lately  built,  you  continue  in  the  province  of  Tou- 
raine,  pleased  with  the  fineness  of  the  country  and 
the  apparent  industry  of  the  inhabitants  ;  but  this 
gradually  lessens  as  you  leave  this  delightful 
stream.  The  night  after  I  wrote  you  from  Blois, 
I  put  up  at  Ingrande,  an  ancient  town  on  the  point 
of  being  modernized.  It  is  situated  on  the  river 
Greuse,  and  the  first  town  after  you  enter  the 
province  of  Poitou.  You  will  observe  here  that 
there  is  a  town  of  the  same  name,  through  which 
the  line  which  divides  Bretagne  from  Anjou  runs, 
but  you  must  not  suppose  that  I  got  there,  or  that 
I  am  easily  turned  from  the  path  which  I  ought 
to  keep.  Supposing  that  you  will  not  complain 
of  my  haste,  I  shall  conduct  you  to  the  upper  part 
of  the  same  stream,  which,  extending  its  arms, 
forms  a  point  on  which  the  capital  of  the  province 
stands,  and  bears  the  name  of  Poictiers.  It  was 
from  this  town  that  the  battle  took  its  name  which 
was  fought  between  Edward  of  England,  com- 


LETTERS.  145 

monly  called  the  Black  Prince,  and  John,  King  of 
France.  It  was  in  the  year  1356 ;  the  French 
king,  and  his  son  Philip  were  both  taken  prison 
ers,  and  the  slaughter  of  the  French  was  said  to 
be  immense.  It  was  the  father  of  this  daring 
youth,  who  having  ascended  the  throne  of  Eng 
land  in  1327,  assumed  the  title  of  King  of  France 
in  1340,  quartered  the  arms  of  France  with  his  own, 
and  added  that  motto  which  they  still  retain,  viz. 
Dieu  et  mon  droit- 

In  this  reign,  (that  is  in  the  reign  of  Edward 
III,)  the  Prince  of  Wales  had  the  title  of  Duke 
given  to  him,  and  ever  since  that  period,  the  eld 
est  son  of  the  King  of  England  is,  by  birth,  Duke 
of  Cornwall ;  and  it  is  from  this  circumstance 
that  I  never  could  reconcile  the  present  embar 
rassment  of  the  Prince  of  Wales,  for  the  revenues 
of  Cornwall  are  estimated  low  at  thirty  or  forty 
thousand  a  year.  At  his  birth,  the  revenues  of  the 
dukedom,  (from  this  circumstance,)  became  his 
property ;  and  during  his  minority,  I  suppose  the 
annual  produce  to  have  been  received,  and  that 
they  ought  to  have  been  reserved  and  accumula 
ted  for  him,  unless  Edward  should  have  stipulated 
that  during  the  minority  of  the  Duke,  his  father, 
as  King  of  England,  should  enjoy  the  revenue,  and 
that  this  circumstance  was  tacked  to  the  inherit 
ance.  But  from  those  which  are  the  foundation 
of  this  liberality,  on  the  part  of  the  third  Edwaid, 
I  do  not  think  it  probable  any  such  stipulations 
13 


146 


LETTERS. 


were  made.  But  flattering  myself  that  you  will 
be  able  to  give  me  some  account  of  this  matter 
when  I  return,  with  your  leave  I  will  drop  the 
subject. 

I  ask  your  pardon,  I  will  never,  (I  think)  put 
it  in  your  power,  my  friend,  to  say  I  am  backward 
in  doing  justice  to  the  sex,  as  I  am  upon  a  rapid 
journey.  Rapid  when  I  do  move,  but  sometimes 
stationary  out  of  curiosity,  for  the  purpose  of  ma 
king  arrangements  for  a  further  progress,  or  kept 
in  check  by  the  misfortunes  of  others. 

We  will  now,  in  the  service  of  the  fair — a  ser 
vice  under  the  banners  of  honour  and  virtue, 
which  I  reverence  superlatively — skip  over  a  tri 
fling  period  of  a  little  better  than  two  centuries, 
and  say  a  few  words  in  panegyric  of  Diana  of 
Poitiers,  Dutchess  of  Yalentinois.  She  shone  like 
a  star  of  the  first  magnitude  during  the  reign  of 
Henry  II  of  France,  in  the  year  1547.  She  may 
be  said  to  have  divided  the  crown  with  her  lover 
and  extended  her  personal  and  political  influence 
to  heights  unexampled.  She  is  said  to  have 
been  the  directing  principle  of  Henry's  councils, 
the  object  of  his  tenderest  attachment,  and  unlimi 
ted  homage.  Historians  acknowledge  her  charms 
to  have  been  of  the  most  captivating  kind,  and 
worthy  of  a  monarch's  love.  Henry  could  not 
boast  of  the  capacity  or  discernment  of  his  prede 
cessor  Francis  I ;  he  was  naturally  tractable  and 
complying,  and,  of  course,  subject  to  the  guidance 


LETTERS.  147 

of  others  ;  and  under  the  influence  of  this  lady, 
he  was  impelled  to  actions  of  vigour  and  firmness. 
In  short,  this,  and  almost  every  other  circumstance 
fully  proves  to  me  of  what  importance  a  lady  may 
make  herself,    and  how  far    she    is   capable   of 
moulding  the  character,  and  gently  directing  the 
man  who  loves  her,  if  she  chooses  to  make  use  of 
her  power  by  a  winning  softness,  and  by  nour 
ishing  every  disposition  to  please.     There  is  no 
saying  what  can  bound  her  power,  or  interfere 
with    her  pursuits.     I  must  acknowledge  myself 
a  friend  to  their  administration,  excepting  only 
when  their  power  is  founded  on  vicious  princi 
ples,  and  runs  a  career  inconsistent  with  the  prin 
ciples  of  strict  virtue  and  morality.     This,  Diana 
could  not  boast  of,  and  therefore,  agreeable  to  the 
present  improved  plans  of  social  life,  Henry  les 
sens  in  estimation,  and  bears  a  blotori  his  escutch 
eon,  which  I  cannot  drive  from  my  view  when 
taking  a  retrospect  of  his  reign  and   character. 
For  though  as  a  father  he  was  affectionate,  and  as 
a  friend  warm  and  animated,  still  as  a  husband  he 
can  only  be  said  to  have  been  decent  and  polite. 
Previous  to  the  death  of  Francis  I,  and  during  the 
reign  of  Henry,  Diana  of  Poitiers  retained  her  pow 
er,  and  displayed  it  in  proportion  to  the  extension  of 
that  of  the  king's.     But  on  the  accession  of  Fran 
cis  II,  the  celebrated  Catherine  of  Medicis,  whom  I 
have  mentioned  in  a  former  letter,  and  was  the 
wife  of  Henry,  rendered  it  necessary  for  Diana  to 


148  LETTERS. 

retire,  and  end  that  life  in  a  degree  of  obscurity, 
which  had  been  passed  in  unexampled  splendour. 
But  Catherine  did  not  lessen  the  dignity  of  her 
character  by  too  great  a  severity.  On  the  con 
trary,  Diana  acknowledged  the  politeness  of  the 
queen,  and  left  her  free  to  direct  the  councils  of 
the  young  king,  who  was  placed  on  the  throne  at 
sixteen  years  of  age. 

He  run  a  confused  career,  and  very  short, 
scarcely  having  time  to  discover  any  striking  lines 
of  character. 

Voltaire  says  he  was  equally  ignorant  of  virtue 
as  of  vice.  But  why  should  I  plague  my  Amelia 
with  such  a  detail ;  I  only  intended  to  have  filled 
this  sheet  when  I  began,  but  I  know  not  how 
to  leave  her ;  if  they  afford  her  a  little  amuse 
ment  in  the  perusal  I  shall  be  pleased.  I  find 
myself  never  better  entertained  than  when  I  am 
writing  to  her,  and  therefore  I  must  beg  she  will 
indulge  me  a  little,  and  permit  me  to  take  only 
one  half  sheet  more.  It  will  lead  her  through  the 
remaining  part  of  the  province  of  Poitou,  still  de 
preciating  in  soil  and  agriculture,  and  enable  her 
to  trace  the  path  of  her  friend  for  that  day,  (on  the 
map,)  and  find  him  at  dinner  at  10  o'clock  at  night, 
in  the  city  of  Angouleme,the  capital  of  Angoumois. 
This  province  gave  birth  to  the  far-famed  Count 
d'Angouleme,  afterwards  the  noted  Francis  I,  who 
I  have  before  mentioned.  He  is  said  to  have  been 
eloquent  in  the  cabinet,  and  courageous  in  the 


LETTERS.  149 

field.  He  was  great  in  arts  and  in  arms  —  and 
your  papa  will  with  pleasure  give  you  the  out 
lines  of  his  character,  as  it  is  drawn  by  his  fa 
vourite  author  Guichiardini ;  the  portrait  is  flat 
tering,  and  by  giving  a  line  it  may  be  easily  found. 
"  Delle  virtu,  della  mag  nanimite  dells  ingegno, 
et  spirito  generoso  di  costui,  s'haveva  universal- 
mente  tanta  sperranzza,  fyc. 

The  roads  continue  the  same,  and  the  country 
grows  worse,  until  you  enter  the  generality 
of  Bordeaux.  I  passed  the  line  with  glowing 
wheels,  and  having  crossed  the  river  Dordogne 
which  joins  the  Garonne  at  Bourg,  put  up  for  the 
night  at  the  hotel  of  Count  D'Artois,  in  the  village 
of  le  Carbon  Blanc,  one  post  and  a  half  from  Bor 
deaux.  The  night  overtook  me  here,  and  finding 
the  ferry  at  the  last  river  not  pleasant,  I  thought 
it  most  prudent  not  to  attempt  the  passage  of  the 
other  without  daylight.  I  found  the  inn,  that  is, 
the  room  where  I  lodged,  neat — and  I  a°ree  with 

O          *  & 

you  that  in  travelling  through  France,  you  are 
much  better  accommodated  with  beds  than  in  any 
part  of  England  through  which  I  have  passed. 
I  indulged  myself  a  little  in  the  morning,  and 
arrived  at  Bordeaux  at  11  o'clock,  and  shall  bid 
adieu  to  it  to-morrow. 

I  leave  Mr.  Barclay  behind ;  he  had  been  here 
near    a   fortnight  before  I  arrived,  having   left 
Madrid  in  December  last.     By  my  letter  to  your 
13* 


150  LETTERS. 

papa  which  accompanies  this,  you  will  find  how 
his  affairs  stand. 

Heaven  bless  and  protect  you  my  dear. 

Adieu.     Yours  sincerely, 

w.  s.  s. 


Bayonne,  Sunday  Night,  11  o'clock, 

May  20th,  1787. 

I  wrote  my  friend  yesterday  from  Bordeaux  ;  I 
am  now  halfway  to  Bayonne,  and  propose  being 
there  to-morrow  night.  I  have  passed  this  day 
through  the  worst  country  I  ever  saw.  I  have  bid 
adieu  to  rapid  movements,  but  will  endeavour  to 
make  up  for  it,  byearly  rising  and  industry.  I  have 
not  been  here  above  five  minutes,  and  E  begin  to 
chat  with  my  Amelia  ;  while  she,  good,  quiet  soul, 
is  sleeping  as  sound  as  I  shall  be,  as  soon  as  I 
get  my  dinner.  The  whole  house  seems  engaged 
on  that  subject  at  present,  except  an  old  woman 
who  has  just  entered,  and  is  proceeding  to  arrange 
my  bed.  The  room  is  paved  with  square  brick, 
and  she  poor  thing  has  wooden  shoes  on,  and  clat 
ters  about  at  a  rate  that  rather  interrupts  than  oth 
erwise.  The  whole  of  this  day's  journey  has  been 
through  a  barren,  flat,  sandy  country,  very  rarely 
producing  any  thing  but  pine  shrub.  The  few 
people  that  I  see  appear  stout  and  healthy ;  and 
the  men  in  general,  when  they  travel,  that  is,  go 
ten,  twelve,  or  twenty  miles,  mount  themselves 


LETTERS.  151 

upon  stilts  about  two  or  three  feet  high,  and  get 
along  at  an  amazing  rate  ;  they  seem  to  move  with 
ease,  and  to  be  no  way's  embarrassed  by  them.  To 
see  three  or  four  of  these  animals  moving  towards 
you  over  a  distant  plain,  has  a  very  singular  ap 
pearance  ;  it  brought  to  my  mind  the  feats  of  Tom 
Thumb,  and  my  ears  tingled  \vithfeefawfum. 
If  you  had  been  with  me,  I  think  I  should  allowed 
myself  to  have  been  diverted  ;  as  I  was  poor  crea 
ture  alone,  I  looked,  thought,  and  was  amused3  but 
it  did  not  extend  to  diversion.  To  give  you  an 
idea  how  a  man  of  six  foot  must  be  elevated  thus 
equipped,  I  will  only  say,  that  a  boy  whose  head 
if  he  had  stood  on  the  ground,  would  not  have 
overlooked  the  nave  of  the  hind  wheel,  came  strid 
ing  up  while  I  was  changing  horses,  to  ask  for  a 
sous.  His  face  was  nearly  on  a  level  with  the 
top  of  the  carriage,  so  that  I  looked  up  at  him  and 
inquired  the  cause  of  his  application,  he  stammer 
ed  and  had  not  a  sufficient  appearance  of  poverty 
to  justify  me  in  complying  with  his  request ;  I 
told  him  so,  and  begged  his  permission  to  save  it 
for  some  boy  who  might  want  it  more  ;  if  you 
please  Monsieur  L'  Comte,  says  he.  Where  he 
got  that  idea  from  I  cannot  tell,  (for  by  all  that's 
handsome,  and  when  a  gentleman  swears  by  his 
wife  he  ought  to  be  believed,)  I  had  neither  cross, 
eagle,  owl  or  ribbon,  not  even  to  my  hair.  Perhaps 
while  the  men  in  this  district  play  the  giant,  the 
women  play  the  witch,  and  make  discoveries  and 


152  LETTERS. 

tell  the  boys.  I  wrote  your  papa  yesterday,  and 
said  that  Mr.  Barclay  was  in  prison;  it  was  true  ; 
he  was  put  there  on  Tuesday  last  as  I  stated, 
and  for  the  reasons  named,  and  to  my  very  great 
astonishment  made  his  appearance  yesterday  at 
half  past  two,  at  my  quarters,  and  said  he  had 
come  to  dine  with  me.  The  addition  to  my  din 
ner  was  soon  made,  and  he  informed  me  that  the 
Parliament  of  Bordeaux  had  released  him,  in 
consequence  of  his  public  character,  not  as  con 
sul,  but  as  envoy  to  Morocco  on  his  return  to 
Paris,  the  place  from  whence  he  departed.  It  has 
made  a  great  talk  ;  both  his  imprisonment  and 
his  release ;  I  am  apprehensive  it  will  not  end 
here. 

21st,  and  it  is  Monday  night,  .half  past  nine  — 
just  got  in  again  —  I  have  been  engaged  in  my 
journey  this  day,  fourteen  hours  ;  I  feel  not  the 
least  inconvenience.  Yours, 

w.  s.  s. 


May  25th,  1787,  9  o'clock,  night. 
Kingdom  of  Spain,  and  Old  Castile  is  the  pro 
vince,  and  I  am  seated  in  a  good  inn  on  the  banks 
of  the  river  Ebro,  which  falls  into  the  Mediterra 
nean  about  twelve  miles  from  Victoria,  and  have 
got  safely  over  those  mountains,  which  I  informed 
my  friend  in  No.  9.  from  Bayonne  on  the  22d,  I 


LETTERS.  153 

should  attack  in  the  morning.  The  difficulties 
which  I  am  to  encounter  on  this  tour  are  yet  to 
show  themselves  ;  but  finally  I  suppose  they  will, 
as  all  others  appear  less  in  reality  than  in  imagi 
nation.  I  have  hitherto  been  very  well  fed,  and 
well  lodged  ;  it  is  a  plentiful  country,  and  if  a 
person  does  not  carry  a  disposition  to  be  pleased 
with  him,  the  disposition  of  the  people  to  serve 
and  accommodate,  will  very  probably  create  it  as 
he  advances,  unless  he  takes  pains  to  shut  it  out. 
I  write  this  in  great  haste,  —  a  little  disposed  for 
sleep,  having  arose  at  three  this  morning  and  been 
busy  all  day  in  getting  forward.  The  same  time 
to-morrow  will  find  me  in  motion  ;  indeed  I  shall 
never  be  at  rest  until  I  am  with  my  friend.  I  pro 
pose  being  in  Madrid  on  Thursday  or  Friday  next, 
when  I  will  take  a  day  or  two  to  say  more.  Two 
English  gentlemen  who  put  up  at  the  same  posada, 
will  take  this  with  them ;  and  dinner  being  now- 
brought  in,  1  must  bid  my  love  adieu  ;  remember 
me  to  mamma. 

I  am  most  affectionately  your  friend,  &c. 

w.  s.  s.  " 


XI. 

Madrid,  May  31. 

I  intended  to  have  continued  on  this  sheet,  my 
letter  from  Bayonne,  No  9,  but  the  gentleman  to 
whom  I  was  addressed,  having  arrived  to  make 


154  LETTERS. 

the  necessary  arrangements  for  my  departure,  I 
was  obliged  to  put  up  a  hasty  prayer  for  my 
Amelia,  and  conclude,  having  scarcely  room  left 
to  sign  my  name.  I  have  now  the  pleasure  of 
informing  my  friend  that  agreeable  to  my  inten 
tions  expressed  in  the  letter  referred  to,  I  left  Bay- 
onne  early  on  the  morning  of  the  23d,  and  while 
the  muleteer  and  Curio  took  a  hasty  bit  at  St. 
Jean  De  Lur,  by  way  of  breakfast,  I  ate  some 
strawberries  and  bread  in  the  carriage,  after  which 
proceeding  to  the  river  Bidassoa,  and  having 
crossed  it,  found  myself  in  the  kingdom  of  Spain 
at  12  o'clock  —  and  perhaps  landed  on  the  very 
spot  where  the  Dauphin  of  France,  and  Henry 
Duke  of  Orleans  disembarked,  when  their  father, 
Francis  I,  on  the  18th  of  March,  1526,  delivered 
them  to  the  Emperor  Charles  V,  as  hostages  for 
his  fulfilment  of  the  treaty  which  he  had  signed 
at  Madrid,  and  which  he  never  intended,  (indeed 
it  was  not  in  his  power)  to  have  complied  with ; 
it  however  produced  his  enlargement.  Histori 
ans  give  a  very  minute  account  of  this  exchange 
of  a  king  for  his  two  sons  ;  and  it  is  remarked  as 
a  matter  of  astonishment,  that  none  have  men 
tioned  the  effect  which  the  sight  of  his  two  child 
ren  must  have  produced  in  the  king  their  father 
particularly  as  they  were  to  be  delivered  to  the 
emperor  to  procure  his  own  release.  I  think  it 
almost  impossible  that  they  should  have  passed 
within  reach  of  each  other,  without  discovering 


LETTERS.  155 

some  emotion  or  producing  some  salute  ;  but  none 
is  noted. 

The  king  proceeded  rapidly  to  Bayonne, 
where  his  mother  and  the  court  awaited  his  arri 
val.  On  the  way,  being  on  horseback,  he  is  said 
to  have  often  waved  his  bonnet  in  the  air,  and 
cried  out  with  transport,  "  Je  suis  encore  Roi  /'» 
His  reign  throughout  was  interesting,  and  his  cha 
racter  great — though  I  think  in  several  instances, 
too  strongly  marked  with  a  vicious  bias  — and  he 
lessens  much  in  my  estimation  in  the  above 
scene ;  for  in  his  hurry  to  become  again  a  king, 
he  appears  totally  lost  to  the  feelings  of  a  man  and 
a  father. 

From  what  I  have  said  of  this  river  Bidassoa, 
you  will  conclude  it  separates  France  from  Spain. 
I  shall  proceed  to  tell  you  that  having  passed  a 
gentleman  and  his  family  travelling,  I  dined  at 
the  first  Spanish  village  in  sight  of  the  borders  of 
France.  The  mode  of  this  family's  travelling  may 
be  worthy  of  notice.  A  mule  being  saddled,  on 
each  side  is  fixed  a  low-armed  chair,  or  framed 
cushion,  in  which  the  gentleman  and  his  lady 
were  seated,  carrying  each  a  small  umbrella. 
Two  female  servants  pressed  the  ribs  of  another 
animal  in  the  same  manner,  and  a  pretty  little  girl 
of  about  twelve  years  was  seated  on  the  saddle 
between  them.  These  patient  creatures  being  led 
by  the  men  servants,  make  a  steady  progress  of 
about  three  miles  the  hour.  I  think  it  would  af- 


156  LETTERS. 

ford  us  a  week's  laugh  at  least,  should  it  ever  be 
our  lot  to  travel  thus,  particularly  if  Sir  and  mad 
am  were  slung  thus  before  us.  But  it  would  be 
fair  to  give  them  an  opportunity  to  laugh  a  little 
too.  For  this  purpose  we  would  lead  the  van,  and 
bring  up  the  rear  alternately.  Oh  !  how  some 
folks  would  groan  or  sigh. 

It  is  needless,  my  dear,  to  rattle  you  over  one 
hill  and  another,  or  fill  my  letter  with  names  of 
villages  and  streams,  which  I  hope  you  will  never 
be  under  the  necessity  of  visiting.  I  shall  con 
tent  myself  with  telling  you  that  I  arrived  here  at 
11  in  the  morning,  on  the  9th  day  after  I  left 
Bayonne  ;  so  that  having  arrived  from  Bordeaux 
there  in  two  day's  travelling,  I  calculate  that  I 
can  pass  from  Bordeaux  to  Madrid  in  eleven.  He 
that  can  do  it  in  less,  I  will  acknowledge  to  be  a 
more  active,  and  of  course  a  cleverer  fellow.  I 
was  always  shaved  and  combed  before  four  in  the 
morning,  and  made  a  point  of  being  ready  every 
day  before  the  muleteer. 

The  roads  through  the  Pyrenean  mountains 
are  so  well  made  as  not  to  be  in  the  least  dan 
gerous,  though  being  badly  paved,  are  rough  and 
uneasy  ;  it  is  carried  through  a  bold  and  highly 
cultivated  country,  thickly  settled  and  luxuriant. 
Passing  through  the  tolerably  free  province  of 
Biscay,  which  your  papa  well  describes  in  I  think 
his  fourth  letter,  in  his  defence  of  the  constitutions 
of  our  country,  enters  the  province  of  Old  Cas- 


LETTERS.  157 

tile,  after  passing  through  the  town  of  Victoria,  a 
pleasant  place,  situated  south  of  the  Pyrenees. 
At  this  place  I  was  stopped  some  hours  by  the 
officers  of  the  custom-house,  and  for  want  of  a 
passport  was  obliged  to  pay  twenty-seven  dollars 
agreeably  to  what  they  called  these  establishments. 
Against  this,  I  had  attempted  to  guard,  by  getting 
Harrison  to  inform  Mr.  Carmichael  one  month 
before  I  left  London,  that  on  or  about  the  13th  of 
May  I  should  be  at  Bourdeaux,  and  requesting 
that  the  necessary  passports  might  be  deposited 
there  for  me.  By  a  letter  from  Harrison  at  L'Ori- 
ent,  I  was  informed  that  he  had  received  an  an 
swer,  and  that  the  papers  would  be  deposited 
agreeable  to  my  request.  I  was  detained  there 
several  days  longer  than  I  intended  by  Mr.  B.'s 
situation.  I  arrived  on  the  day  appointed,  and  yet 
found  no  passports.  I  can  account  for  this  in  no 
other  way  at  present,  than  that  the  general  or 
rather  particular  movements  of  my  countrymen 
in  Europe  have  been  so  very  uncertain,  that  every 
one  concerned  with  them  have  given  up  every 
idea  of  calculation,  or  even  believing  them  when 
they  say  they  intend  leaving  a  place  to-day,  and 
being  at  another  to-morrow.  I  cannot  bear  to 
have  my  word  doubted,  even  in  the  most  trivial 
case,  and  was  a  little  displeased  at  Bourdeaux 
when  I  told  a  gentleman  (who  asked  me  when  J 
should  proceed,)  that  I  should  go  in  the  morning. 
"  Oh  no,"  says  he,  "  you  will  dine  with  me  the  day 
14 


158  LETTERS. 

after."  For  myself,  I  am  determined  my  ac 
quaintance  shall  make  me  an  exception  to  this 
rule,  and  learn  to  believe  it  is  my  intention  when 
I  tell  them  so  ;  for  that  the  thing  will  be  done  is 
a  fact,  unless  I  should  be  checked  by  accident,  or 
am  convinced  of  an  error  in  my  determination. 

But  with  respect  to  this  custom-house  at  Vic 
toria.  I  was  at  first  a  little  displeased ;  but  on 
recollection,  being  convinced  that  the  surest  way 
to  overcome  the  difficulty  was  to  submit  to  the  reg 
ulations  of  the  country,  and  take  a  particular  re 
ceipt,  that  in  case  of  imposition  I  might  get  re 
dress  here.  I  kept  myself  cool,  sent  Curio  to  make 
the  arrangement,  and  contented  myself  in  the 
public  house  until  he  informed  me  that  every 
thing  was  settled,  and  the  mules  ready  to  go. 

At  this  place  is  a  very  elegant  new  inn,  and  I 
dined  sumptuously,  and  was  well  attended. 

Former  travellers,  who  have  cast  a  censure  on 
this  province  of  Biscay,  relative  to  its  scarcity, 
and  badness  of  accommodation,  must  surely  have 
set  out  with  a  determination  to  find  fault  and 
be  peevish.  I  acknowledge  my  plan  to  have 
been  carried  even  thus  far  into  execution  upon 
principles  diametrically  opposite,  but  must  say  it 
is  a  perfect  Paradise  to  either  Old  or  New  Castile. 
Indeed  Spain  is  the  only  country  that  I  am  ac 
quainted  with,  that  the  nearer  you  approach  the 
capital,  the  worse  are  the  accommodations,  and 
the  more  glaring  the  lines  of  general  poverty  and 


LETTERS.  159 

oppression.  But  I  find  I  have  been  so  accustomed 
for  several  days  past  to  bound  and  skip  along, 
that  I  can  scarcely  preserve  a  steadiness  in  my 
description. 

I  will  run  through  Biscay  perfectly  satisfied 
with  it ;  it  produces  wheat,  corn,  oats,  flax,  and 
has  large  orchards.     The  inhabitants  appear  in 
dustrious  and  healthy.     Their  villages  and  hou 
ses  seem  to  have  been  long  built,  and  where  there 
are  any  new  additions,  there  appears  very  little 
improvement  in  the  taste  of  the  architecture  ;  but 
it  answers  their  purposes,  and  they  appear  content 
arid  comparatively  happy.      There   is  an  air  of 
haughtiness  in  their  movements,  even  of  the  infe 
rior  classes.     The  labourer  in  the  field  panting 
with  fatigue,  while  he  checks   his    industry  to 
gratify  his  curiosity,  puts  his  arms  a  kimbo^  and 
endeavours  to  look  big.     He  seems  conscious  that 
he  is  happier  than  his  neighbour  in   the  other 
provinces  of  the  kingdom,  and  looks  as  if  he  dare 
defend  himself  and  his  possessions  if  attacked. 
But  the  scene  changes  as  you  leave  this  province 
and  pass  through  Old  and  New  Castile.     Here  is 
misery —  no,  they  are  just  not  miserable  ;  the  soil 
is  ungrateful,  and  the  villages  cannot  furnish  a 
traveller  with  any  thing  to  eat.     I  rested  on  the 
ability  of  the  country  as  long  as  possible,  but  found 
it  would  not  do,  and  for  two  or  three  days  dined 
upon  half  a  dozen  cups  of  tea  and  a  crust.     It 
was  enough  for  me  ;  and  as  for  rest  at  night,  I  did 


160  LETTERS. 

tolerably  in  the  mountains  —  but  in  this  dreary 
way  —  excuse  me  — 

Bugs  of  man  make  a  prey, 

And  fleas  have  their  appetites  too; 

To  avoid  whose  bite 

I  sling  hammock  at  night, 

And  so  sleep  with  a  tolerable  gout. 

You  see  I  cannot  help  getting  prose  run  mad 
sometimes ;  indeed  it  is  enough  to  make  every 
thing  run  mad  to  be  so  bit.  I  never  was  so  sen 
sible  of  the  force  of  a  toast  I  used  frequently  to 
hear  given  in  the  course  of  the  war,  as  I  have 
been  on  this  jaunt :  viz.  "  perpetual  itching  to  the 
enemies  of  America,  without  the  benefit  of 
scratching."  1  will  never  drink  that  toast  again, 
for  it  is  too  cruel ;  poor  people,  I  can  now  feel  for 
you  if  it  had  fallen  to  your  lot,  death  would  have 
found  you  before  the  definitive  treaty  ;  England 
would  have  been  saved  an  immensity  of  money, 
and  the  king  and  his  cabinet  have  been  restored 
long  since  to  their  senses. 

June  1st.  The  court  are  at  Aranjuer,  and  of 
course  Mr.  Carmichael  with  them.  The  first 
thing  I  did  yesterday  was  to  send  a  letter  to  him  ; 
it  is  six  leagues,  to  beg  he  would  forward  what 
letters  he  has  for  me.  I  have  only  yet,  Amelia, 
received  No.  1 ;  if  I  shall  be  disappointed  here, 
and  not  get  any  from  you,  I  will  leave  the  place 
immediately,  and  go  to  Lisbon  and  be  sick.  I 
have  already  sent  the  things  to  be  washed,  and  am 


LETTERS.  161 

making  preparations  for  a  further  progress.  I 
shall  be  out  of  humour  with  the  world,  or  at  least 
the  post-offices  in  it,  unless  I  have  letters :  how 
dare  the  varlets  detain  them? 

I  am  already  almost  put  aside  myself  by  bells 
and  drums  religious.  The  host  has  already  pas 
sed  three  times  to-day.  I  looked  out  of  the  win 
dow,  for  I  have  not  yet  been  in  the  street,  and 
observed  whole  ranks  of  passengers  kneeling. 
The  Spaniards,  at  least  those  1  have  seen,  appear  a 
sedate  and  solemn  people ;  pleasantry  and  good 
humour  seem  to  be  entirely  engrossed  by  the 
monks  and  friars.  The  inhabitants,  whose  coun 
try  I  have  passed  through,  except  Biscay,  appear 
almost  worn  out  by  the  oppressions  of  their  gov 
ernments,  and  fatigued  to  death  by  being  priest- 
ridden. 

There  is  a  little  cultivation  round  this  capital. 
It  is  very  disagreeably  situated,  and  has  an  in 
significant  appearance  as  you  approach  it.  Per 
haps  I  shall  walk  out  towards  sunset,  and  to-mor 
row  may  say  a  little  about  the  town  and  its  inter 
nal  arrangements ;  and  I  expect  to  be  in  better 
spirits  to  write,  for  I  still  hope  to  receive  some 
thing  from  my  Amelia  before  I  go  to  rest.  But 
as  it  is  possible  this  may  reach  Grosvenor  Square 
before  No.  10,  I  will  only  say  that  on  the  25th, 
having  put  up  at  the  same  inn  with  two  gentle 
men  travelling  towards  London,  I  put  a  letter  to 
my  dear  Amelia  under  cover  to  Dr.  H.,  only  in- 
14* 


162  LETTERS. 

forming  her  that  I  was  well,  and  safely  over  the 
mountains. 

Saturday  morning,  5  o'clock,  June  2d.  I  was 
setting  solus  at  eleven  last  night,  still  expecting 
No.  2,  when  lo  !  it  arrived.  Mr.  Carmichael  was 
so  good  as  to  send  his  servant  express  with  it,  and 
one  or  two  others.  I  read  it,  and  took  it  to-bed 
with  me,  and  then  read  it  again  ;  I  could  not  com 
pose  myself  before  I  got  it,  and  after  I  had  read  it 
several  times,  it  would  not  let  me  sleep,  and  has 
roused  me  thus  early  in  the  morning.  I  have  not 
yet  been  out  of  my  room ;  I  am  getting  myself 
cool  and  composed,  for  I  have  moved  with  such 
rapidity  for  twelve  days  past,  that  I  think  if  on  my 
arrival  I  had  been  cast  into  the  branch  of  the 
Tagus,  on  which  this  capital  stands,  I  should 
have  made  as  great  a  hissing  as  FalstafF  did 
when  he  was  thrown  into  the  Thames.  I  shall 
go  this  day  to  Aranjuez,  and  lodge  with  Mr. 
Carmichael,  as  he  has  very  politely  requested. 
I  shall  see  what  is  to  be  seen  there,  learn  what  I 
can  relative  to  general  and  particular  politics,  and 
return  again  here  to  set  off  for  Lisbon  ;  but  of  all 
this  you  will  be  informed  by  other  letters.  I  like 
your  ideas  of  contentment  —  and  when  I  return, 
will  study  to  keep  myself  as  much  "  within  the 
bounds  of  reason"  as  possible. 

Papa's  and  Mr.  C.'s  jaunt  turned  out  exactly  as  I 
expected,  relative  to  the  pleasures  they  were  to  ex 
perience.  /  have  often  wondered  whin  people 
have  their  choice^  they  do  not  as  frequently  pick 


LETTERS.  163 

up  a  rose,  as  meddle  with  a  thorn ;  but  the 
fault  is  in  our  stars,  and  not  in  ourselves.  Hap 
py  are  those  who  study  to  counteract  this  bias  of 
their  nature  as  much  as  possible  ;  the  great  object 
of  life  is  to  be  happy,  and  to  be  so,  I  agree  with 
you  we  must  keep  "  within  the  bounds  of  reason." 

I  think  you  will  say  he  writes  a  long  letter  be 
fore  breakfast.  I  would  at  any  time,  Emmy,  rather 
converse  with  you  than  eat.  I  am  obliged  to  make 
use  of  a  paper  on  which  I  have  been  sketching 
out  some  lines  of  fortifications  in  the  mountains  ; 
thus  you  storm  my  works  and  make  me  your  pri 
soner  at  discretion.  I  am  as  well  convinced  as 
you  possibly  can  be,  that  you  will  never  abuse 
your  power,  or  give  me  reason  to  regret  having 
placed  unbounded  confidence  in  you ;  but  that 
I  have  not  said  more  to  you  on  the  subjects  you 
allude  to,  and  which  you  say  I  touched  the  evening 
before  I  set  out,  is  because  you  have  never  put 
yourself  forward  enough  in  conversation,  to  ena 
ble  me  to  judge  of  what  you  wished  to  know,  or 
what  you  would  be  pleased  to  be  informed  of;  I 
think  I  only  want  to  be  clear  in  that,  and  every 
thing  I  know  on  the  subject  sought  after,  will  be 
cheerfully  communicated. 

I  am  almost  put  out  of  my  senses  by  bells  and 
drums,  accompanying  the  host  through  the  streets. 
The  Romish  religion  is  the  only  one  tolerated  in 
this  kingdom,  and  it  is  played  off  with  such  pomp 
and  ceremony,  that  I  am  astonished  that  the  nation 


164  LETTERS. 

at  large,  has  not  seen  through  the  mist  that  sur 
rounds  them,  and  broke  the  fetters  of  priestcraft ; 
but  they  still  grasp  at  it  with  all  its  absurdities, 
and  by  a  steady  perseverance  in  the  career,  have 
furnished  their  king  with  the  title  of  his  Most 
Catholic  Majesty.  I  shall  see  him  in  a  day  or  two, 
and  paint  him  to  you  ;  but  I  feel  a  little  prejudi 
ced  ;  this  I  must  conquer.  I  have  seen  so  much 
misery  in  the  villages,  that  I  think  I  shall  be  dis 
gusted  at  the  splendour  in  the  palace  ;  I  can  be 
content  and  pleased  with  it,  when  it  flows  from 
the  liberality  of  an  enlightened,  generous  people, 
conscious  of  their  power,  and  sensible  of  their 
rights ;  and  that  it  arises  from  liberal  donations 
to  the  chief  magistrate,  to  enable  him  to  support 
the  dignity  of  his  station.  But  when  the  faces  of 
the  poor  are  ground,  to  polish  the  throne  of  a  ty 
rant,  its  glitter  frets  my  mind,  and  forces  me  to 
dwell  in  painful  contemplation  on  those  vile  op 
pressive  measures,  which  are  exerted  to  collect 
from  the  too  patient  multitude,  the  earnings  of 
their  industry  and  the  paltry  overplus  of  a  pitiful 
subsistance.  But  enough  ;  I  find  I  am  drawing 
to  the'last  side  of  my'paper,  and  I  have  no  more  ; 
if  I  had,  I  do  not  know  when  I  should  stop. 

Yours,  w.  s.  s. 


XII. 

Aranjuez,  June  6th,  1787. 

MY  DEAR  FRIEND  : 

I  was  much  pleased  this  morning  by  the  receipt 


LETTERS.  165 

of  yours  of  May  19th.  Look  at  the  dates  —  May 
5th,  Paris,  and  Blois,  May  llth  —  the  places  are 
very  distant,  and  it  is  impossible  to  write  in  a  cha 
riot  going  post.  I  have  answered  your  mamma's 
letter  from  this  place  ;  I  have  not  gone  through 
the  necessary  visits  to  the  royal  family,  but  they 
are  nearly  finished.  1  find  everything  here  much 
more  agreeable  than  I  expected  ;  the  corps  diplo 
matic,  are  very  different  gentlemen  at  this  court, 
from  those  at  the  court  of  London  ;  here  friend 
ship,  hospitality,  and  good  humour,  sweeten  soci 
ety,  and  sweeten  the  political  career.  I  have  been 
here  four  days,  and  have  dined  very  agreeably 
three  of  them,  with  the  English,  Swedish,  and  the 
Dutch  Ministers  ;  I  am  engaged  to  dine  with  the 
Comte  de  Florida  Blanca  on  Saturday,  and  shall 
begin  to  think  of  proceeding  to  Lisbon  ;  but  I  am 
rather  uneasy  about  Curio;  the  fatigues  of  the  jour 
ney  have  proved  too  great  for  him,  and  he  is  now 
sick  and  a-bed ;  he  is  well  attended,  and  I  hope  will 
recover  in  a  few  days  ;  if  he  does  not,  I  shall  with 
very  great  reluctance  be  obliged  to  proceed  with 
out  him  ;  he  has  conducted  himself  so  well,  that  I 
shall  miss  him  much — and  at  Bay  one  took  him  in 
the  carriage  with  me,  so  that  all  through  Spain  he 
has  fared  in  every  respect  equal  with  myself.  But 
notwithstanding  that,  he  is  sick  and  I  am  as  usual, 
in  greater  health  for  the  active  life  I  have  passed. 
It  is  my  element ;  sloth  and  inactivity  will  sicken 
me ;  but  the  other  will  ensure  me  health  and  spirits. 


166  LETTERS. 

June  7th.  The  grand  procession  of  the  court 
this  day,  has  engaged  the  attention  of  every  one 
in  and  about  this  place  ;  the  palace  was  thronged 

with  "  reverend  r s  in  robes,"  adorned  with 

all  the  insignia  of  their  respective  stations,  and 
cutting  no  despicable  figure  ;  on  the  contrary,  the 
whole  was  solemnly  magnificent,  and  worthy  the 
attention  of  a  stranger.  After  the  solemn  march 
was  over,  all  parties  perambulated  the  gardens, 
where  taste  and  elegance,  accompanied  with  all 
the  graces  of  the  Spanish  court,  were  laid  open 
to  view.  I  was  entertained  and  shall  spend  this 
afternoon  at  a  bull  feat ;  but  I  am  told  it  will  not 
be  equal  to  what  I  shall  see  in  the  course  of  a  day 
or  two  ;  but  you  shall  have  more  of  this  in  detail, 
my  friend,  when  I  shall  again  seat  myself  content 
ed  by  your  side.  I  thank  you  for  the  information 
you  give  me  in  cypher  ;  there  is  great  pleasure  in 
having  my  companion  a  little  of  a  politician.  The 
news  came  agreeable  and  apropos.  Yours, 

w.  s.  s. 


XIII. 

Aranjuez,  Sunday,  June  10th,  1787. 
I  have  payed  my  respects  to  his  majesty  and  all 
the  royal  family.  The  prime  minister,  the  Comte 
de  Florida  Blanca,  made  professions  of  friendship 
for  our  country,  and  gives  me  letters  of  introduc 
tion  to  Lisbon,  but  he  being  a  little  deranged  I  had 
not  the  honour  of  seeing  him  yesterday  as  I  ex- 


LETTERS.  167 

pected,  and  mentioned  in  a  former  letter  ;  he  has 
appointed  Wednesday  for  our  final  conference,  &c. 
I  have  been  so  perfectly  well  received  here,  that 
I  cannot  help  communicating  to  my  best  friend, 
my  satisfaction  on  the  subject.  I  dined  yesterday 
with  the  Comte  de  Kagenack,  formerly  the  Impe 
rial  Ambassador  at  the  Court  of  London.  The 
entertainment  was  brilliant,  and  he  vastly  polite, 
and  desired  his  respectful  compliments  to  Mrs. 
Smith  and  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Adams.  The  easy 
good  humour  which  floats  in  the  atmosphere  of 
this  court,  has  had  a  good  effect  upon  his  excel 
lency.  He  appears  to  greater  advantage  here 
than  when  I  used  to  see  him  stand  as  stiff  at  St. 
James's,  as  if  he  had  swallowed  a  crowbar.  I 
pass  my  day  thus  —  I  rise  every  morning  at  five 
o'clock,  dress,  and  mount  on  horse-back  at  six  — 
but  where  does  my  friend  get  a  horse  ?  I'll  tell 
you  my  dear.  The  Russian  Ambassador,  (the 
very  antipode  of  Comte  Woronzow)  is  attentive 
beyond  description.  This  day  is  the  second- that 
I  have  dined  with  him ;  he  told  me  his  horses 
were  at  my  service  during  my  stay.  I  have,  with 
all  the  modesty  I  am  master  of —  and  I  hope  you 
do  not  think  that  small  —  accepted  ;  and  thus 
accommodated,  accompanied  by  Sir  Alexander 
Monro  the  English  Consul,  who  politely  offerred, 
to  ride  with  me  every  day,  until  he  had  shown 
me  all  the  beauties  of  this  spot.  I  take  a  gentle 
ride  one  day  to  one  part,  and  another  to  another, 


168  .  LETTERS. 

until  about  nine  o'clock,  when  we  return  to  break 
fast,  get  dressed  by  half  past  eleven,  go  to  court 
and  walk  in  the  palace  gardens  until  two.  That 
being  the  hour  for  dinner,  I  proceed  with  the  se 
renity  of  a  Steuben  to  the  house  where  I  have 
been  previously  invited.  After  dinner  the  card 
tables  engage  the  attention  of  those  who  would 
rather  play  than  chat,  until  the  lengthening  shad 
ows  proclaim  the  declining  sun  sufficiently  near 
the  western  horizon,  to  make  the  walks  agreeable, 
and  exercise  healthful.  At  this  signal,  the  whole 
court  sally  forth,  and  present  a  scene  sufficiently 
enlivening  for  the  kingdom  of  Spain.  Before  the 
evening  dews  fall,  every  one  retires  as  he  may 
be  respectively  engaged.  I,  an  old-fashioned  fel 
low,  am  now  sitting,  being  Sunday  evening  8 
o'clock,  writing  to  my  wife.  I  feel  my  soul 
expand  with  every  benevolent  and  interesting 
sensation  when  in  company  with  respectable  old 
age.  I  think  it  has  its  joys,  (though  different) 
equally  with  youth,  and  the  early  part  of  life  be 
ing  what  I  style  well  spent,  its  joys  and  pleasures 
will  gradually,  and  agreeably  to  the  gentle  stages 
of  nature,  give  place  without  a  pang,  or  rather 
imperceptibly,  to  the  more  sedate  and  cooler  en 
joyments  of  the  advanced  periods.  All  that  I  am 
anxious  and  studious  for,  is,  to  govern  and  direct 
my  enjoyments  in  such  a  way,  as  would  not  make 
a  good  man  blush  on  recollecting  them,  whether 
in  the  world  or  in  his  closet  —  you  are  both  alone. 


LETTERS.  169 

Tell  mamma  my  advice  is,  to  take  John  on  horse 
back,  and  by  gentle  day's  journeys,  make  an  ex 
cursion  into  Devonshire  —  it  can  be  done  in  four 
days  —  you  can  spend  four  days  there,  and  be 
back  on  the  twelfth;  but  I  think  she  has  scarcely 
courage  enough.  It  would  be  a  good  jaunt  for 
you  both,  but  methinks  you  sigh  and  wish  me 
back  ;  for  this  purpose  I  join  you  most  heartily. 
Well,  when  I  do  come,  we  will  try  if  I  cannot 
take  some  gudgeons  for  you  in  some  part  of  the 
Thames.  I  thank  you  for  rolling  Mr.  Paradise 
so  well  up  in  your  letter,  and  then  stretching  him 
out  again.  "  I  ask  your  pardon,  I  don't  know 
whether  I  explain  myself  well  or  not."  Oh  you 
are  an  arch  one,  but  you  are  just  such  as  I  wish 
you,  but  rather  too  far  from  me  at  present.  Papa, 
you  say,  is  gone.  I  am  rather  of  opinion  he  will 
be  worried  on  the  subject,  but  that  he  will  finally 
succeed  I  do  not  doubt  —  but  it  will  be  by  the 
sweat  of  his  brow  —  it  is  the  way  we  all  get 
through  life.  Some,  it  is  true,  do  not  puff  and 
blow  as  much  as  others,  but  very  few  take  it  as 
easy  as  they  might  if  they  would  take  a  little 
pains.  I  am  at  present  looking  steadfastly,  and 
with  reverence  at  the  finger  of  Providence  as  it 
relates  to  Curio — he  is  dangerously  ill  —  but  a 
few  days  will  decide  the  subject.  I  am  prepared 
with  a  proper  mind  for  the  decision.  You  will 
hear  from  me  again  soon.  Yours, 

w.  s.  s. 
15 


170     *  LETTERS. 


XV. 


Aranjuez,  June  18th,  1787. 

1  wrote  you,  my  dear  Amelia,  on  the  10th,  llth, 
12th,  13th,  and  14th  instant,  and  that  I  am  still 
here  is  owing  to  the  prospect  of  Curio's  speedy 
recovery.  I  am  almost  out  of  patience  waiting 
for  it,  but  it  would  be  unjust  to  leave  him  behind 
in  a  strange  country,  when  a  few  days'  patience 
may  sufficiently  restore  him  to  proceed  with  me  ; 
but  I  have  wrote  to  his  doctor  this  morning,  re 
questing  him  to  inform  me  when  he  supposes  he 
will  be  in  a  condition  to  travel ;  when  I  receive 
his  answer,  I  shall  decide  whether  it  is  proper  and 
consistent  for  me  to  proceed  or  wait.  There  is 
every  pains  taken  here  in  the  circle  of  my  ac 
quaintance,  to  make  my  time  pass  agreeably;  and 
I  have  been  pleased  and  comforted,  but  it  is  not 
a  theatre  for  me.  I  find  the  manners  of  the  world 
surrounding  the  palace,  very  different  from  that 
which  can  excite  my  respect,  or  in  every  respect 
please  me.  I  therefore  frequently  retire  to  con 
verse  with  you,  my  friend,  and  can  with  truth  as 
sert  that  those  moments  of  virtuous  retirement 
are  my  greatest  sources  of  pleasure.  I  continue 
my  early  morning  rides,  and  am  sensible  of  their 
being  of  service.  This  place,  with  the  improved 
and  ornamented  grounds,  embrace  a  space  of  many 
leagues  in  circumference,  on  both  sides  of  the 
River  Tagus.  The  palace  is  considered  the  cen 
tre  of  the  scene,  surrounded  with  luxuriant  and 


LETTERS, 


171 


well-arranged  gardens,  through  which  the  river 
passes  with  rapidity.  Its  face  is  variegated  by 
obstructions,  which  produce  both  gently-sloping, 
and  perpendicular  falls,  which  are  pleasing  to  the 
eye,  and  by  no  means  disagreeable  to  the  ear.  It 
is  really  a  treat  to  be  here;  you  may  ride  under  a 
double  row  of  elms  and  oaks,  perfectly  sheltered 
from  the  sun,  for  six  or  eight  miles,  which  I  sup 
pose  to  be  about  the  length  of  the  largest  diame 
ter  of  this  park.  It  abounds  with  deer,  and  wild- 
hogs,  partridges  and  hares,  pheasants  and  rabbits. 
The  king  is  a  great  sportsman,  and  passes  a  con 
siderable  proportion  of  every  day  both  in  hunting 
and  fishing.  He  is  attended  every  day  in  his 
palace,  by  the  foreign  ministers,  and  those  of  his 
subjects  who  form  the  court,  and  they  pass  their 
time  as  at  Versailles.  On  Sunday,  all  the  Royal 
family  here  dine  in  public  in  their  own  apart 
ments,  and  receive  the  courtiers  while  at  dinner ; 
but  more  of  this  when  I  get  home:  when  will 
that  be  ?  I  shall  consult  the  first  fortune-teller  I 
may  chance  to  meet  with,  and  if  she  or  he  do  not 
fix  it  at  a  very  short  date,  I  will  give  but  a  small 
fee.  1  must  say  a  few  words  in  cypher.  I  sup 
pose  if  this  letter  falls  into  the  hands  of  a  politician 
before  it  reaches  you,  he  will  not  spend  his  time 
in  attempting  to  decypher  a  sentence  from  a  gen 
tleman  to  his  lady. 

7  o'clock.     I  have  just  returned  from  dining 
with  the  Russian  Ambassador,  who  I  have  spo- 


172  LETTERS. 

ken  of  before,  and  must  apologize  for  putting  in 
cypher  what  perhaps  you  may  suppose  might  as 
well  have  been  wrote  at  full  length.  If  it  was 
anything  relative  to  a  political  question  you  might 
be  repaid  the  trouble  of  decyphering  it,  by  com 
municating  it  to  your  papa;  but  as  it  relates  only 
to  us,  you  will  keep  it  to  yourself,  or  laugh  with 
mamma  on  the  subject,  as  you  please.  46.  93p. 
n3uu3p.  4.  5i.  b3pr.  74b4n.  um.  u93.  o462. ;  don't 
laugh  at  me  !  I  have  the  pleasure  of  informing 
my  friend  that  I  called  to  see  my  servant  to-day, 
and  that  I  found  him  up,  and  in  a  fair  way  speed 
ily  to  recover.  I  feel  lighter  for  it,  and  shall  make 
every  necessary  arrangement  for  my  departure  on 
the  day  the  doctor  says  he  may  undertake  the 
journey.  I  shall  be  a  day  or  two  longer  on  the 
road,  least  he  should  relapse,  and  I  natter  myself 
that  the  sea-breeze  at  Lisbon  will  recruit  him  so 
that  when  I  begin  to  return,  he  will  be  able  to 
bear  the  rapidity  of  my  motion  back.  In  one  of 
your  letters  you  seem  rather  interested  in  the 
beauty  of  the  French  ladies.  The  only  way  I 
have  to  extricate  myself  from  censure,  as  wanting 
taste,  is  to  suppose  that  they  had  all  retired  to  the 
sea-side  to  pass  the  summer,  for  it  is  a  truth,  not 
one  showed  herself  on  my  path,  which  run  a  very 
long  line  through  the  kingdom ;  and  even  in 
Spain,  if  I  may  be  allowed  to  judge,  the  stock  is 
too  small  to  be  worth  counting  upon,  as  we  Yan 
kees  say,  w.  s.  s. 


LETTERS.  173 

XVI. 

Madrid,  June  1st,  1787. 

MY   DEAREST   AMELIA: 

I  was  rendered  extremely  happy  yesterday 
morning,  by  the  receipt  of  your  letter,  No.  5, 
dated  the  3d  inst.  My  last  of  the  18th,  I  suppose 
is  considerably  advanced  towards  you.  The  re 
moval  of  the  Court  from  Aranjuez,  and  the  impos 
sibility  of  making  arrangements  there  for  my  de 
parture  for  Lisbon,  rendered  my  return  to  this 
place  necessary.  I  am  tired  with  the  inevitable 
delay  I  have  met  with  here,  on  account  of  my  ser 
vant's  indisposition ;  but  his  health  is  now  restored, 
(though  he  is  rather  weak)  and  i  shall  put  myself 
soon  again  in  motion.  You  know  I  am  a  great 
advocate  for  sloping  the  descent  of  life,  and  "strew 
ing  the  way  over  with  flowers,"  I  will  do  all  I  can 
to  collect  a  sufficiency  for  you,  and  aid  you  in 
scattering  them  to  our  mutual  satisfaction  ;  and 
would  even  venture  to  advise  the  giving  up  of 
all  intimacy,  with  persons  who  seem  disposed  to 
pluck  the  thorn  rather  than  the  rose.  Apropos: 
I  recollect  something  clever  on  this  subject,  the 
substance  of  which  the  pleasant  minded  Franklin 
is  said  to  have  suggested  to  a  small  circle  of 
friends,  i.  e.  there  are  two  sorts  of  people  in  this 
world,  who  with  equal  degrees  of  health  and 
wealth,  and  the  other  comforts  of  life,  become,  the 
one  happy,  and  the  other  unhappy.  This  arises 
very  much,  from  the  different  views  in  which  they 
consider  things,  persons,  and  events  ;  and  the  ef- 
15* 


174  LETTERS. 

feet  of  those  different  views  upon  their  own  minds. 
In  whatever  situation  individuals  may  be  placed, 
they  may  find  conveniences  and  inconveniences  ; 
in  whatever  company,  they  may  find  persons  or 
conversations  more  or  less  pleasing ;  at  whatever 
table,  they  may  meet  with  meats  and  drinks  of 
better  and  worse  taste,  dishes  better  and  worse 
dressed ;  in  whatever  climate,  they  will  find  good 
and  bad  weather  ;  under  whatever  government, 
they  will  find  good  and  bad  laws,  and  those  laws 
well  or  badly  administered ;  in  every  poem  or 
work  of  genius,  they  may  see  faults  and  beauties; 
in  almost  every  face  and  every  person,  they  may 
discover  fine  features  and  defects,  good  and  bad 
qualities.  Under  these  circumstances,  the  two 
sorts  of  people  abovementioned  fix  their  attention ; 
those  who  are  to  be  happy  on  the  conveniences  of 
things  ;  the  pleasant  parts  of  conversation,  the 
well  dressed  and  well  tasted  dishes,  the  goodness 
of  the  wines,  the  fine  weather,  &c.  &c.,  and  enjoy 
all  with  cheerfulness.  Those  on  the  other  hand 
who  are  to  be  unhappy,  think  and  speak  only  of 
the  contraries  ;  hence  they  are  continually  discon 
tented  with  themselves,  and  by  their  remarks  sour 
the  pleasures  of  society,  offend  personally  many 
people,  and  make  themselves  every  where  disa 
greeable.  If  this  turn  of  mind  was  founded  in 
nature,  such  unhappy  persons  would  be  the  more 
to  be  pitied  ;  but  as  the  disposition  to  criticise  and 
be  disgusted,  is  perhaps  taken  up  originally  by  im- 


LETTERS.  175 

itation.  (for  man  is  an  imitative  animal,)  and  una 
wares  grows  into  a  habit,  which  though  strong, 
may  nevertheless  be  cured,  when  those^who  have 
it,  are  convinced  of  its  bad  effects  on  their  felicity. 
I  hope  this  little  admonition  may  be  of  service  to 
them,  and  put  them  on  changing  a  habit,  which 
though  in  the  exercise  is  chiefly  an  art  of  imagi 
nation,  yet  it  has  serious  consequences  in  life,  as 
it  brings  on  real  griefs  and  misfortunes ;  for  as 
many  are  offended  by,  and  nobody  loves  this  sort 
of  people,  no  one  shows  them  more  than  the  most 
common  civility  and  respect,  and  scarcely  that ; 
this  frequently  puts  them  out  of  humour,  and 
draws  them  into  disputes  and  contentions.  If 
they  aim  at  obtaining  some  advantage  in  rank  or 
fortune,  nobody  wishes  them  success,  or  will  stir 
a  step,  or  speak  a  word  to  favour  their  pretensions. 
If  they  incur  public  censure  or  disgrace,  no  one 
will  defend  or  excuse,  and  many  join  to  aggravate 
their  misconduct  and  render  them  completely 
odious.  If  these  people  will  not  change  this  bad 
habit,  and  condescend  to  be  pleased  with  what  is 
pleasing,  without  fretting  themselves  and  others 
about  the  contraries,  it  is  good  for  others  to  avoid 
an  acquaintance  with  them,  which  is  always  dis 
agreeable  and  sometimes  very  inconvenient ;  par 
ticularly  when  one  finds  one's  self  entangled  in 
their  quarrels.  There  was  an  old  philosopher, 
grown  cautious  from  experience  in  this  particular, 
who  carefully  shunned  any  intimacy  with  such 
people.  He  had,  like  other  philosophers,  a  ther- 


176  LETTERS. 

mometer  to  show  him  the  heat  of  the  weather,  and 
a  barometer  to  show  him  when  it  was  likely  to 
prove  good  or  bad.  But  there  being  no  instru 
ment  yet  invented,  to  discover  at  first  sight  this 
unpleasing  disposition  in  a  person,  he  for  that 
purpose  made  use  of  his  legs,  one  of  which  was 
remarkably  handsome,  the  other  crooked  and  de 
formed.  If  a  stranger  at  the  first  interview,  re 
garded  his  ugly  leg  more  than  his  handsome  one, 
he  doubted  him.  If  he  spoke  of  it,  and  took  no 
notice  of  the  handsome,  that  was  sufficient  to  de 
termine  this  philosopher  to  have  no  further  ac 
quaintance  with  him.  Every  body  is  not  thus 
furnished  to  make  this  experiment,  but  every  one 
with  a  little  attention,  may  observe  signs  of  that 
carping,  fault-finding  disposition,  and  take  the 
same  resolution  of  avoiding  the  acquaintance  of 
those  infected  with  it.  The  story  is  closed  in  ad 
vice  to  those  critical,  querulous,  discontented, 
fault-finding,  unhappy  people,  that  if  they  wish  to 
be  loved  and  respected  by  others,  and  happy  in 
themselves,  they  should  leave  off  looking  at  the 
ugly  leg.  I  dare  say,  my  dear,  that  you  can  look 
round  society,  and  mark  out  a  few  whom  this  story 
might  benefit ;  thank  our  stars  we  are  tolerably 
clear  of  this  disposition.  I  have  often  been  di 
verted  in  company,  to  obeserve  persons  anxiously 
looking  out  for  the  ugly  leg ;  and  I  dare  say  it 
will  not  be  long  after  the  receipt  of  this,  but  you 
will  smile  on  the  discovery  of  a  similar  trick  in 
the  character  of  some  one  or  other.  w.  s.  s. 


LETTERS.  177 

XVII. 

Madrid,  Saturday,  June  30th,  1787. 

I  wrote  you  my  friend  on  the  25th,  No.  16 ;  it 
was,  through  mistake,  dated  the  21st.  I  then  ex 
pected  to  be  on  my  way  before  this,  but  the  king 
thought  proper  to  lay  an  embargo  on  all  mules 
and  their  drivers,  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
court.  I  am  heartily  sick  of  being  detained  here, 
but  have  made  a  positive  agreement,  signed, 
sealed,  and  delivered,  to  be  taken  from  this  on 
Tuesday ;  after  which  there  will  be  a  necessary 
interruption  to  that  correspondence  for  a  time, 
which  during  my  confinement  here,  has  been  my 
only  source  of  happiness.  Mr.  Carmichael  has 
often  laughed  at  me,  on  discovering  my  gayety 
and  good  humour,  or  my  sobriety  on  the  arrival 
of  the  post.  Yesterday  I  was  as  gay  as  a  lark, 
and  read  your  agreeable  letter  of  the  happy  12th 
of  June,  with  every  tender  and  affectionate  sen 
sation. 

Your  observation  on  people  mixing  with  socie 
ty,  perfectly  corresponds  with  my  ideas  on  that 
subject,  and  I  fully  agree  with  you  that  we  should 
either  remain  in  our  studies,  or  come  out  with  a 
disposition  to  be  pleased,  and  to  mix  with  the 
world  with  gayety  and  good  humour.  This  in 
tercourse  may  be  fairly  viewed  through  a  com 
mercial  medium,  and  a  useful  lesson  drawn  from 
it.  When  we  leave  our  rooms  to  seek  society,  it 
would  perhaps  not  be  improper  to  turn  the  object 


178  LETTERS. 

in  our  minds.  If  we  go  to  seek  pleasure  and  en 
tertainment,  we  should  also  examine  what  we 
can  give  in  return  for  it,  and  whether  the  inter 
course  can  be  made  reciprocally  amusing  —  for 
unless  it  is,  the  circle  we  frequent  will  soon  be 
come  tired  of  us,  or  we  of  them  ;  and  like  the 
merchant  who  seeks  foreign  or  domestic  markets 
to  exchange  his  merchandise,  we  shall  frequent 
or  forsake  those  places  where  we  can  meet  with, 
or  do  not  find  a  good  equivalent  for  what  we 
bring.  In  the  small  circle  of  your  friends,  you 
will  find  many  visit  the  market  with  smiles  and 
approbation  ;  some  with  mirth  and  wit,  and  a 
very  few  with  benevolence  and  instruction.  A 
large  group  travel  daily  round  the  stalls,  with 
slander,  censure,  and  malevolence.  The  first 
will  contentedly  hear  whatever  you  have  to  say, 
and  give  you  the  smile  and  grin  of  approbation 
in  exchange  ;  the  second  will  demand  it  again  in 
exchange  for  what  he  brings  ;  the  third  class  are 
generally  satisfied  with  attentive  silence,  and  to 
be  now  and  then  flattered  with  a  leading  question, 
which  will  enable  them  to  display  their  knowledge 
and  observation.  They  are  worth  cultivating; 
indeed  so  are  the  two  preceding. 

"Can  smile  at  sorrows  not  their  own, 
And  laugh  to  hear  a  nation  groan, 
They  are  insolent,  and  vain,  and  rude, 
And  grieve  at  all  that's  great  and  good." 

They  insult,  wherever  they  offer  their  goods, 
and  seldom  hold  any  commerce  but  with  each 


LETTERS.  179 

other.  Towards  this  class  I  would  not  only  re 
fuse  to  give  any  thing  in  exchange,  but  would  not 
even  accept  of  their  wares  ;  and  instead  of  even 
plaguing  myself  with  telling  them  that  what  they 
offered  was  not  to  my  taste,  or  to  the  taste  of  those 
who  visited  my  shop,  I  would  keep  always  ready 
a  delicately  polished  mirror,  finished  by  the  gen 
teel,  and  of  polite  reflection,  which  should  be 
presented  even  before  they  had  entirely  unpacked, 
and  I  do  not  think  I  should  ever  be  troubled  with 
a  second  visit ;  —  but  to  business.  The  letter  to 
Mr.  Robert  Riddle  of  Castle  Green,  Dumfries, 
and  the  will  received  from  Mr.  Troup,  I  wish  my 
friend  would  put  in  the  post,  with  a  little  note  to 
Mr.  Riddle.  He  is  a  polite  gentleman,  and  the 
papers  are  of  importance  to  him.  If  Mr.  Troup's 
letter  to  him  is  open,  shall  I  ask  a  copy  ?  Mr. 
Sullivan's  affair  I  shall  attend  to.  I  thank  you 
for  your  determination  to  keep  a  journal  ;  it  is  a 
good  thought,  and  will  amuse  you  now,  and  here 
after  give  me  pleasure. 

It  is  necessary  that  I  should  write  to  your  papa 
and  Mr.  Jefferson  by  this  post.  The  sentence 
contained  in  cypher  of  one  of  my  letters  from 
Aranjuez,  I  suppose  you  have  communicated  — 
and  as  I  have  some  reason  to  think  my  letters 
pass  very  securely  to  you,  I  shall  enclo^  your 
papa's  under  the  same  cover.  Those  that  you 
have  favoured  me  with,  have  come  safe  and  regu 
lar —  the  last  was  not  numbered.  Tell  master 


180  LETTERS. 

William  that  I  am  much  obliged  by  his  attention, 
and  hope  he  will  continue  to  merit  the  praises  of 
his  mamma ;  kiss  the  dear  boy  morning,  noon, 
and  night  for  me, 

I  am  called  upon  to  pay  a  visit  to  the  Marquis  de 
de  Arranda.     I  shall  return  to  my  pen  soon  again. 

I  found  at  the  Marquis's  a  large  party  at  cards. 
They  are  always  to  be  met  with  here.  He  is  a 
gentleman  of  great  fortune,  and  keeps  an  open 
table,  where  every  one  is  well  received  at  dinner 
every  day  he  choses  to  call  after  his  introduction 
to  the  family  ;  but  cards  always  succeed  the  cof 
fee,  and  a  ride  in  the  Prado  takes  up  the  cool  of 
the  evening.  What  is  called  society  here,  is  the 
assembling  of  a  number  of  people,  who  immedi 
ately  fix  themselves  at  a  table,  and  proceed  to 
plunder  each  other  politely  at  cards.  But  fortu 
nately,  every  one  has  it  at  his  option  to  play  or 
look  on  ;  you  are  left  at  free  liberty  either  to  do 
this,  or  even  to  loll  on  a  settee  in  any  of  the  apart 
ments,  and  sleep  out  your  visit ;  a  bow  on  enter 
ing,  and  another  when  you  retire,  will  pass  you 
any  where  ;  a  careless  passive  civility,  is  what  is 
most  current,  and  is  called  ease  and  gentility.  After 
the  ride  in  the  prado,  or  ornamented  meadow,  the 
opera,  standing  routes  or  particularly  frescos,  close 
the  evening ;  iced  creams,  and  lemonade  with 
cake,  stop  the  mouths  of  those  who  are  not  dis 
posed  to  be  very  particular  to  some  one  lady. 
The  former  I  find  excellent. 


LETTERS.  181 

The  evening  rides  exactly  resemble  those  of 
Hyde  Park,  except  that  both  sides  are  shaded  with 
lofty  trees  well  arranged,  pleasingly  interspersed, 
with  fountains  and  running  streams  ;  and  in  the 
centre,  lest  in  the  pleasing  scene  the  company 
should  forget  the  power  of  the  king,  and  the  na 
ture  of  the  government,  a  number  of  dragoons 
with  drawn  swords  constantly  patrole,  and  the 
procession  move  the  round  with  great  regularity, 
no  one  being  permitted  to  turn  but  at  certain 
windings  and  outlets. 

The  city  within  is  neat,  and  many  streets  are 
elegantly  irregular.  It  far  exceeds  Paris,  or  any 
other  in  Europe  that  I  have  seen,  except  West 
minster.  Some  of  their  gates  show  the  improved 
taste  of  the  times  ;  but  the  wall  of  the  city  was 
built  for  use  detached  from  ornaments. 

You  say  you  should  like  to  pass  the  leisure 
moments  in  the  study  of  history  ;  it  will  give  me 
great  pleasure  my  friend,  to  attend  you  in  this 
pursuit ;  a  little  acquaintance  with  geography 
would  make  the  pursuit  delightful  to  you.  In 
the  meantime  you  will  find  in  my  closet  Robert 
son's  History  of  Charles  V.  The  whole  of  that 
Emperor's  reign  is  interesting,  and  the  manner  of 
his  resigning  his  crown  to  his  son  Philip,  and  vol 
untarily  retiring  from  the  splendour  of  a  court  to 
spend  the  rest  of  his  days  in  solitude,  will  com 
mand  your  attention,  for  at  that  time  it  filled  all 
Europe  with  astonishment.  He  took  leave  of  his 
16 


182  LETTERS. 

son  Philip  II,  on  the  17th  of  September,  1556, 
and  sailing  from  Holland,  which  was  then  under 
his  government,  he  landed  in  Spain,  and  falling 
on  the  earth  he  kissed  it,  and  exclaimed,  "  naked 
came  I  into  the  world,  and  naked  I  now  return 
to  thee,  thou  common  mother  of  mankind."  Dis 
missing  all  his  attendants  except  twelve,  he  took 
up  his  abode  in  a  small  house,  which  he  had  or 
dered  previously  built  for  his  reception  in  a  small 
valley  of  this  kingdom  ;  and  here,  I  think  it  is 
Robertson  who  says,  "  he  buried  in  solitude  and 
silence,  his  grandeur,  his  ambition,  together  with 
all  those  vast  projects,  which  during  half  a  cen 
tury  had  alarmed  and  agitated  Europe."  He  was 
particularly  curious  with  regard  to  the  construc 
tion  of  clocks  and  watches  —  and  having  found 
after  repeated  trials,  that  he  could  not  bring  any 
two  of  them  to  go  exactly  alike,  he  is  said  to  have 
reflected  with  a  mixture  of  surprise  and  regret, 
on  his  own  folly,  in  having  bestowed  so  much 
time  and  labour  on  the  more  vain  attempt  of 
bringing  mankind  to  a  precise  uniformity  of  sen 
timent  concerning  the  intricate  and  mysterious 
doctrines  of  religion.  He  was  constantly  engaged 
in  foreign  wars,  or  in  contests  with  his  protestant 
subjects,  in  fruitless  attempts  to  bring  them  back 
to  the  Catholic  religion.  Philip  early  discovered 
his  ingratitude  and  inattention  to  his  father,  who 
was  embarrassed  for  the  first  payment  which 
Philip  was  to  have  made  him ;  though  out  of  his 


LETTERS.  183 

immense  wealth,  and  extensive  possessions  both  in 
Europe  and  Africa,  and  the  more  wealthy  conti 
nent  of  South  America,  he  only  reserved  to  him 
self  100,000  crowns  a  year.  But  the  son  soon 
discovered  that  with  his  father's  kingdoms  he  in 
herited  his  views,  and  though  he  had  transferred  to 
him  his  power,  he  could  not  transplant  his  good 
qualities.  His  tyranny  and  persecutions  soon 
procured  the  revolt  and  loss  of  the  Low  Countries, 
now  the  United  Provinces,  commonly  called 
Holland.  His  marriage  with  Mary,  queen  of 
England,  as  great  a  bigot  as  himself,  is  considered 
a  circumstance  which  rather  urged  him  on  to 
those  acts  which  disgraced  his  reign  and  dismem 
bered  his  empire.  But  you  see  1  am  a  little 
pushed  for  paper,  and  it  is  now  too  late  to  obtain 
a  fresh  supply.  It  is  probable  when  you  receive 
this,  1  shall  be  in  or  near  Lisbon. 

Tell  Mr.  Cutting  I  have  received  his  letter 
from  Amsterdam,  and  am  much  obliged ;  he  was 
right  to  go  with  your  papa  ;  and  1  think  he  had  bet 
ter  postpone  his  visit  to  Taunton  until  rny  return. 
Remember  me  affectionately  to  your  mamma. 
Sir  is  I  suppose  still  in  Holland.  I  am,  my  friend, 
with  the  most  unbounded  love,  yours  sincerely, 

w.  s.  s. 

XVIII. 

Madrid,  July  3d,  1787. 

One  line  more,  my  dear  friend,  before  1  shut  up 
my  writing  desk  and  bid  adieu  to  Madrid.  I  have 


184  LETTERS. 

written  several  notes  of  thanks  to  those  who  have 
contributed  to  make  my  stay  here  tolerably  agree 
able,  and  had  cleared  my  desk,  but  my  heart  beat 
it  open  to  chat  a  little  more  with  you,  to  say  fare 
well,  until  I  get  to  Lisbon,  which  calculation  will 
be  twelve  days  from  this  date,  when  I  shall  again 
take  my  pen,  and  unfold  the  scenes  I  may  pass. 
Remember  me  with  tenderness,  and  "  all  be 
yond,  let  wild  ambition  grapple  for  and  gain." 
Yours  most  sincerely,  w.  s.  s. 

XIX. 

Merida,  July  9th,  1787,  Estremadura. 
The  weather  is  extremely  warm,  which  induces 
me  to  begin  my  journey  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning ;  we  put  up  at  eight  and  rest  until  five,  it 
is  now  near  nine,  and  the  journey  for  the  day  is 
finished.  When  I  wrote  you  my  friend  from  Ma 
drid  No.  18,  I  gave  you  some  reason  to  think  that 
you  would  not  hear  from  me  again,  until  my  ar 
rival  at  Lisbon  ;  but  I  suppose  you  laughed  at  the 
idea,  and  imagined  I  should  steal  a  moment  from 
sleep,  to  say  a  word  or  two  on  the  way.  It  would 
afford  you  no  amusement  were  I  to  give  a 
minute  account  of  the  villages  through  which  I 
have  passed  since  my  departure  ;  there  is  such  a 
sameness  prevails  throughout,  that  knowing  one, 
you  may  form  a  tolerable  idea  of  all  the  rest,  and 
even  the  description  of  that  one,  I  think  it  would 
be  prudent  for  me  to  retain,  until  I  have  the  hap- 


LETTERS.  185 

piness  of  being  with  you.  In  some  however,  par 
ticularly  in  Orepesa  and  Truxilles,  are  the  remains 
of  ancient  Moorish  or  Roman  fortifications  ;  the 
latter  is  asserted  by  M.  L.  Dutens,  Member  of  the 
Royal  Academy  of  Inscriptions  and  Belles-lettres 
of  Paris,  and  a  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society  of 
London,  to  be  the  country  of  the  famous  Pizarro, 
the  conqueror  of  Peru.  With  submission  to  the 
learned  gentleman,  I  take  the  liberty  of  doubting 
it,  and  beg  that  you  will  examine  Robertson  on 
this  important  point,  for  I  think  he  will  say  some 
thing  of  Pizarro  which  will  enable  you  to  forward 
me  the  information  I  wish.  The  question  is, 
where  was  Pizarro  the  conqueror  of  Peru  born 
and  brought  up — for  education  I  think  he  had 
none  — and  on  what  theatre  did  he  first  make  his 
appearance  ?  If  my  recollection  does  not  fail  me, 
he  started  forth  after  Cortez  had  conquered  Mex 
ico,  and  some  even  say  that  he  was  a  native  of 
Panama;  this  I  am  pretty  clear  in.  In  that  dis 
trict  of  country  the  plan  was  first  laid  by  Francis 
Pizarro,  Almagro,  and  Sucques  a  priest ;  that  they 
sailed  from  thence  for  Spain,  and  obtained  a  grant 
of  all  the  countries  they  should  conquer.  This 
great  enterprise  was  undertaken  with  two  hundred 
and  fifty  foot  and  sixty  horse,  and  from  the  par 
ticular  circumstances  of  the  kingdom  of  Peru  at 
the  time  of  the  invasion,  the  invaders  had  every 
advantage  possible.  The  reigning  king  was  At- 
abalipa,  the  twelfth  of  the  race  of  the  Incas  ;  he 
16* 


186  LETTERS. 

had  just  conquered  his  brother  Huescar,  and  held 
him  as  a  prisoner  in  Cusco,  the  then  capital  of  the 
Peruvian  empire.  The  system  of  government 
which  was  pursued  by  the  Incas,  you  will  find  in 
Barlow's  Vision  of  Columbus,  and  many  lines  of 
national  character  justly  and  delicately  drawn. 
I.  never  yet  could  get  it  for  so  long  a  time  as  I 
wished,  for  separate  from  the  versifying  abilities 
of  the  author,  it  must  contain  some  historical  facts 
worth  looking  into.  I  shall  be  amused  with  the 
latter  panegyricks  ;  on  the  former  I  shall  leave  to 
better  judges.  They  were  a  mild  and  gentle  peo 
ple,  and  from  the  superiority  of  European  arts  and 
arms,  fell  an  easy  prey  to  the  invaders.  But  Pi- 
zarro,  while  revelling  in  luxury,  and  enjoying  the 
wealth  of  the  greatest  conquest  that  was  ever 
made,  fell  a  sacrifice  to  his  own  pride  and  avarice, 
in  his  palace  in  the  city  of  Lima,  which  he  had 
founded  and  built,  and  which  now  is  the  capital 
of  that  kingdom.  It  has  always  been  convulsed, 
and  I  cannot  help  thinking,  is  not  much  at  this 
present  day  disposed  for  tranquillity. 

The  mistake  of  Monsieur  Dutens,  (if  it  is  one) 
may  arise  from  this :  there  are  two  other  towns 
in  the  world  called  Truxillo,  beside  the  one  we 
now  dispute  about  in  Estremadura  in  Spain.  The 
one  is  in  the  kingdom  of  Peru  in  South  America, 
about  two  hundred  miles  from  Lima;  and  the  other 
is  in  North  America  in  the  kingdom  of  Mexico  and 
province  of  Honduras,  about  three  hundred  miles 


LETTERS.  187 

northeast  of  Amapalla  ;  perhaps  this  last  was  the 
native  place  of  Pizarro  —  that  he  transferred  the 
name  to  the  town  in  S.  A.  &c.  &c. ;  but  I  won't 
at  this  distance  from  my  little  library  plague  my 
self  with  conjectures,  but  Mr.  Duton's  opinion 
must  be  looked  into  —  in  the  meantime  I  will  only 
say  that  the  place  I  now  write  from  is  situated  on 
the  River  Guadiana,  and  was  once  the  capital  of 
Estremadura,  and  abounds  with  interesting  mon 
uments  of  antiquity ;  it  was  formerly  a  Roman 
city  of  some  considerable  note  if  I  may  judge  from 
the  venerable  pillars  and  arches,  in  and  about  the 
place.  There  is  a  column  of  white  marble  in  the 
square  (which  I  suppose  the  centre  of  the  ancient 
city,)  crowned  with  a  pedestrian  statue.  Time 
has  not  made  any  great  depredations  on  this  col 
umn  ;  it  stands  firm,  and  preserves  its  grandeur 
amid  the  surrounding  ruins.  I  could  not  help 
attempting  to  draw  a  line  of  comparison  between 
the  people  who  raised  this  column,  and  turned  the 
neighbouring  arches,  and  those  who  at  the  pres 
ent  day  were  treading  out  their  grain  with  horses 
in  the  environs  of  these  ancient  relics.  But  as 
"  death  opens  wide  the  gates  of  fame,  and  shuts 
close  the  doors  of  envy  after,"  and  imagination  is 
apt  to  paint  in  too  high  colours,  I  am  apprehen 
sive  I  have  complimented  the  Roman  character, 
too  much  at  the  expense  of  the  Spanish.  I  have 
a  high  idea  of  the  former,  and  am  looking  out  for 
every  favourable  impression  from  the  latter.  I 


188  LETTERS. 

have  in  several  instances  been  fortunate,  but  have 
not  yet  made  up  my  mind.  There  appears  a 
strange  jumble  which  I  can  neither  digest  nor 
reconcile  —  but  a  further  knowledge  of  them,  and 
a  little  more  thought,  may  satisfy  me ;  at  present 
clouds  and  darkness  rest  upon  it.  Yours, 

w.  s.  s. 

XX. 

Lisbon,  July  16th,  1787. 

I  arrived  here  the  last  evening,  and  sent  imme 
diately  to  the  merchant  to  whom  I  am  addressed, 
to  inquire  for  a  letter  from  my  dear  Amelia,  and 
was  not  a  little  mortified  to  receive  for  answer, 
that  the  gentleman  was  gone  to  his  country  house 
to  spend  the  day  with  some  friends,  it  being  Sun 
day.  Well,  says  patience,  wait  until  the  morn 
ing,  Mr.  Colonel,  and  you  shall  have  it,  for  I  am 
sure  the  letter  has  been  forwarded.  It  turned  out 
exactly  so,  and  at  breakfast  this  morning  I  was 
blessed  with  No.  7,  of  the  20th  of  June,  contin 
uing  by  adjournments  until  it  embraced  the  22d. 
I  have  half  a  mind  to  get  a  cork  jacket  made,  and 
like  the  lover  who  swam  the  Hellespont  every 
night  to  meet  his  fair  one,  plunge  into  the  Atlantic, 
and  seek  the  white  cliffs  of  Albion.  The  difficul 
ties  which  were  painted  on  my  route  were  easily 
overcome,  or  vanished  as  I  approached  them. 
There  is  a  strange  disposition  afloat  in  the  world, 
to  let  the  bad  foot  command  the  attention.  A 


LETTERS.  189 

gentleman  wrote  me  the  morning  I  left  London, 
some  instructions  relative  to  the  route  and  mode 
of  travelling,  for  observe,  he  had  been  through 
these  countries.  He  recommends  me  by  all 
means,  to  travel  through  Spain  and  Portugal  on 
horse-back,  arid  to  carry  my  portmanteau  on  a 
mule;  for,  says  he,  "for  a  carriage,  the  roads  are 
but  passable  — for  an  English  carriage  imprac 
ticable"  I  shall  have  the  pleasure  of  relating  to 
that  gentleman,  how  agreeable  a  good  English 
carriage  has  made  the  journey  to  me  ;  and  I  shall 
say  further,  that  I  am  thus  far  without  suffering 
the  least  fracture  only  of  one  of  the  lamps,  when 
the  muleteer  drove  me  against  the  side  of  a  house. 
I  very  coolly  told  him  I  did  not  choose  to  go  in 
that  way,  if  he  would  please  to  enter  at  the  gate 
way,  I  should  thank  him.  It  is  true  that  every  body 
appears,  and  some  express  their  astonishment  at 
so  light  a  carriage  having  performed  the  journey. 
I  have  met  with  several  who  have  broken  wheels 
and  springs,  but  by  the  attention  I  paid  to  this 
carriage  before  I  set  out  —  you  may  remember  I 
walked  often  to  the  coach-maker's  —  it  has  fully 
equalled  my  expectations,  and  I  am  much  pleased 
with  the  fidelity  of  the  coach-maker ;  his  work 
does  him  honour.  I  have  not  the  least  doubt  but 
it  will  carry  me  secure  back  again. 

I  am  rendered  doubly  happy  to  be  informed  in 
your  agreeable  letter,  of  the  welfare  of  my  family 
in  America,  I  am  deeply  interested  in  their  hap- 


190  LETTERS. 

piness,  and  pleased  to  hear  they  are  well  and 
cheerful.  You  will  find  us,  my  Emmy,  a  family 
of  friends,  looking  upon  each  other  with  every 
benevolent  sensation,  and  anxiously  disposed  to 
promote  each  other's  happiness.  In  such  a  circle 
I  think  Heaven  designed  you  to  move,  and  not  in 
the  cold,  unfeeling  round  of  life,  where  each  looks 
on  the  other  with  the  eye  of  indifference,  except 
only  when  they  can  answer  each  other's  purposes. 
But  check  to  your  castle,  says  you  — thank  you, 
my  queen.  You  say  Charity  expresses  her  appre 
hension  that  I  have  discovered  something  in  her 
style  which  did  not  meet  with  my  approbation, 
and  thus  she  accounts  for  my  silence.  You  will 
find  from  this  circumstance,  my  dear,  how  well  I 
am  known  —  even  the  waters  of  the  Atlantic  can 
not  shelter  me  from  a  discovery.  I  own  I  was 
somewhat  hurt  at  a  sentence  in  one  of  her  letters 
to  me,  but  the  dear  girl  would  never  have  known 
it  had  she  not  made  the  observation  you  forward 
ed  —  nay,  I  doubt  whether  if  she  was  to  read  the 
letter  ten  times  over  she  would  discover  it  herself. 
I  will  now  write  her,  and  smooth  it  over.  I  am 
a  strange  creature,  and  I  acknowledge  it ;  but  you 
will  make  me  a  good  one  I  hope.  I  know  it  was 
not  fair  to  let  the  trifle  —  for  a  trifle  it  was  —  rest 
upon  my  mind  ;  but  I  have  very  little  disguise  in 
me,  and  would  never  nourish  the  least  particle  of 
it,  were  it  not  sometimes  necessary  to  the  happi 
ness  of  others;  but  I  find  it  very  difficult,  and 


LETTERS.  191 

sometimes  almost  next  to  an  impossibility  to 
"  carry  smiles  and  sunshine  in  my  face,  when 
discontent  sets  heavy  on  my  heart,"  or  to  write 
a  letter  of  tenderness,  affection,  or  friendship, 
when  my  feelings  are  not  in  unison,  or  do  not 
correspond  with  the  subject.  I  admire  a  reply  of 
Bethas,  an  Arabian  prince,  who  being  taken  pris 
oner  in  the  course  of  a  war  between  him  and  the 
Prince  of  Parthia,  when  the  latter  upbraided  him 
with  having  undertaken  the  war  upon  vile  and 
mercenary  principles,  and  that  the  reasons  he 
originally  gave  for  it  were  not  founded  in  fact, 
but  that  other  and  stronger  motives  lay  concealed. 
He  said,  "no  sir,  'twas  honour  urged  me  to  the 
war;  it  is  my  ruling  star  by  which  I  steer  through 
life,  and  shun  the  shelves  of  infamy  and  vice;" 
and  to  the  latter  charge,  proceeding,  he  exclaim 
ed  with  dignity,  "there  you  mistake  me,  Prince, 
for  dissimulation  never  marked  my  looks,  nor  flat 
tering  deceit  e'er  taught  my  tongue  the  tale  of 
falsehood  to  disguise  my  thoughts."  But  1  am 
quite  out  of  my  depth  and  calculation  ;  1  am  on 
the  fourth  side,  and  almost  to  the  bottom,  when  I 
candidly  acknowledge  I  intended  only  to  fill  this 
sheet;  for  as  you  say,  it  has  a  long  way  to  travel, 
but  I  have  got  so  far,  and  I  will  proceed  to  the 
other. 

My  last  letter  to  you  my  friend,  was  marked 
No.  19,  (but  you  take  no  notice  of  not  having  re 
ceived  No.  10)  dated  on  the  9th  inst.,  from  Merida, 


192  LETTERS. 

in  the  Spanish*  Province  of  Estremadura,  on  the 
River  Guadiana,  which  after  entering  the  king 
dom  of  Portugal  at  Elvas,  and  dividing  the  king 
dom  of  Algarva,  (subject  to  Portugal)  from  the 
province  of  Andalusia,  loses  itself  in  the  Mediter 
ranean  Ocean  at  Aymonte,  a  Spanish  town  about 
eighty-five  miles  northwest  of  Cadiz,  where  I  sup 
pose  sober-sided  Harrison  now  is.  I  said  some 
thing  about  Merida,  its  past  grandeur  and  present 
appearance,  its  ancient  arches,  and  a  pillar  on 
which  an  equestrian  statue  is  fixed,  and  as  you 
are  pleased  to  express  yourself  interested  in  the 
small  points  of  history  which  I  have  touched  in 
some  of  my  letters,  I  shall  tell  you  what  puzzles 
me;  on  the  one  side  of  the  pillar  mentioned,  is 
clearly  legible  Concordice  Augusti — the  other 
I  could  not  make  out,  but  it  finishes,  Romce,  1646. 
On  reading  this  I  was  instantly  overshadowed 
with  a  darkness  similar  to  what  was  felt  in  Egypt, 
and  I  cannot  yet  find  out  what  this  1646  means. 
The  different  dates  of  the  rise  and  fall  of  empires 
is  pretty  well  preserved,  and  history  clearly  proves 
to  us  that  the  Egyptians  communicated  to  the 
Greeks,  those  to  the  Romans,  and  they  to  the 
present  inhabitants  of  Europe,  the  luxuries  and 
refinements  of  civilized  life.  We  know  that 
Rome  was  founded  by  Romulus  and  Remus  in 
the  year  753,  before  the  birth  of  Christ  —  that  in 

*  There  is  a  Province  in  Portugal   of  the  same  name,  in  the  Capital  of 
which  I  am  at  present. 


LETTERS.  193 

the  year  328,  after  Christ,  Constantine  removed 
the  seat  of  empire  from  Rome  to  Constantinople, 
and  that  in  476,  Rome  fell  a  pray  to  the  Barba 
rians  of  the  North,  and  that  Odoaeer  their  leader, 
occupied  the  thrones  of  the  Caesars.  We  also 
know  that  wars,  tumult,  and  a  general  confusion, 
attended  with  ignorance,  overspread  Europe  for 
several  hundred  years,  which  gradually  dispers 
ing,  the  dawnings  of  refinement,  and  the  stages  of 
improvement  are  traced  pretty  clearly  to  the  lat 
ter  end  of  the  fifteenth  century,  viz:  in  1492, 
when  Columbus  sailed  for  the  discovery  of  Amer 
ica  ;  from  that  period  to  the  present  day  is  very 
clearly  known — the  progress  in  the  arts  and  sci 
ences,  and  the  general  amelioration  of  the  state  of 
man  has  not  wanted  recorders.  Now  through  all 
these  meanders,  I  can  get  no  light  thrown  upon 
Romce,  1646.  Perhaps  your  papa  can  explain 
it,  while  I  proceed  to  tell  my  friend,  that  having 
crossed  the  Gaudiana  in  the  morning  of  the  tenth, 
on  a  strong  stone  bridge  of  sixty-one  arches,  I 
proceeded  to  Badajos,  the  capital  of  Estremadura, 
and  the  last  town  in  Spain,  strongly  fortified  and 
garrisoned.  On  the  eleventh,  having  recrossed 
the  Guadiana  on  a  bridge  of  twenty-seven  arches, 
at  ten  o'clock  1  entered  the  kingdom  of  Portugal, 
and  at  twelve  drove  into  Elvas,  the  frontier  gar 
rison  of  the  kingdom.  As  I  entered  the  gate,  the 
officer  of  the  guard,  according  to  custom,  took  my 
name  and  I  passed  to  the  Posada.  In  a  very  short 
17 


194  LETTERS. 

time  the  commanding  officer.  Senior  Guillerme 
Luir  Antonio  Je  Vallere,  Marechal  de  Camps,  (fee. 
&c.,  waited  upon  me.  He  said  that  as  soon  as 
the  garrison-guard  reported  my  arrival  and  name, 
he  set  out  to  pay  his  respects,  to  offer  his  services 
during  the  time  I  honoured  the  garrison  with  my 
presence  ;  and  hoped  I  would  do  him  the  favour 
to  take  a  soldier's  dinner  with  him.  "You  will, 
sir,"  says  he,  "  excuse  the  rapidity  of  my  advances, 
when  I  assure  you  I  have  known  you  some  time, 
though  I  never  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  be 
fore."  I  was  quite  thunder-struck  with  all  this 
profusion  of  compliment  and  civility,  thanked 
him  for  his  politeness,  and  accepted  his  invitation 
to  dinner  —  determined  to  look  further  into  his 
character.  I  would  give  some  few  pence  to  know 
what  he  meant,  when  he  said  he  had  known  me 
for  some  considerable  time ;  but  here  I  could  not 
with  decency  discover  any  anxiety.  On  entering 
his  quarters,  I  found  his  table  covered  with  min 
erals  and  petrefactions,  (fee.  (fee.,  and  different 
specimens  of  wood  laying  under.  I  compliment 
ed  him  on  the  scene,  and  began  with  him  as  a 
philosopher,  admiring  the  sports,  exertions,  and 
arrangements  of  Nature,  exhibited  in  the  several 
productions  which  lay  before  us  ;  he  joined  with 
great  relish,  and  after  running  some  time  on  this 
horse  we  mounted  the  botanical  nags,  a  collection 
of  which  he  produced.  I  admired  some,  and  took 
the  seeds  of  others,  with  instructions  how  to  raise 


LETTERS.  195 

and  use  them.  A  case  of  mathematical  instru 
ments  which  lay  near,  induced  me  to  leap  the 
ditch  and  mount  the  parapet,  and  we  proceeded 
to  fortification  and  gunnery,  in  all  which  I  found 
him  instructed  superior  to  any  officer  I  have  ever 
met  with  —  in  short  I  passed  this  day  delightful 
ly.  He  extended  his  politeness  further:  after' 
dinner  he  showed  all  the  works,  and  the  interior  ar 
rangements  of  the  garrison,  and  amused  me  for  an 
half  hour  with  the  exercise  and  firing  of  a  com 
pany  of  Infantry  and  Artillery.  It  was  better  than 
a  pinch  of  snuff;  and  when  I  took  my  leave  of 
him  he  gave  me  a  letter  of  introduction  to  his  lady 
and  daughter  here,  whom  I  have  taken  tea  with 
this  afternoon  ;  and  ordered  two  of  his  dragoons 
to  attend  me  through  the  kingdom,  and  to  see  me 
safe  in  Lisbon.  This  they  faithfully  attended  to, 
and  I  dismissed  them  this  morning,  with  thanks, 
and  money  to  carry  them  back  again ;  (if  people 
will  dance  they  must  pay  the  fiddler.)  I  am  divert 
ed  with  mamma's  dream,  on  the  first  of  April ;  it 
shows  at  least  that  she  thinks  a  little  about  us, 
and  what  she  says  of  the  succession,  I  dare  say  you 
will  agree  with  me  in  supposing  it  would  be  bet 
ter  so  than  worse  ;  but  I  agree  with  you  in  think 
ing  it  has  come  forward  at  a  very  early  period, 
for  it  most  certainly  existed  previous  to  the  arrival 
of  the  persons  mentioned,  but  time  and  patience 
will  unfold  all,  and  my  next  will  say  something 
to  you  about  the  time  you  may  expect  to  have  me 


196  LETTERS. 

to  yourself ;  but  why,  my  dear,  do  you  say  your 
next  shall  be  deposited  at  Bordeaux  ;  have  you  not 
been  a  little  too  hasty  in  this  decision  ?  But  it  is 
done,  and  I  can  only  mourn  that  if  I  should  be 
detained  here  two  or  three  weeks,  that  I  shall  not 
have  another  line  from  you  until  I  get  into  France, 
which,  let  me  be  as  industrious  as  I  can  be,  can 
not  be  in  less  than  a  month  or  six  weeks;  but  I'll 
play  you  a  trick  for  this,  so  look  sharp.  During 
the  course  of  the  war,  I  was  stationed  with  three 
hundred  and  eighty  chosen  men,  at  Updikes, 
New  Town,  in  the  State  of  Rhode  Island,  oppo 
site  the  British  army.  I  had  detached  a  Captain 
and  fifty,  some  distance  on  my  right,  to  guard  a 
pass,  &c.  &c.,  a  circumstance  came  to  my  knowl 
edge,  which  gave  him  some  little  advantage  of 
the  enemy.  I  sent  orders  to  him  in  writing  to 
do  so  and  so,  and  press  the  advantage  that  for 
tune  might  favour  him  with,  and  at  the  moment 
that  I  expected  his  report  of  having  done  the 
business,  I  received  information  of  the  enemy  hav 
ing  passed,  and  soon  after  his  account  confirming 
it,  with  a  detail  of  what  he  had  done.  It  was  dif 
ferent  from  what  I  had  requested,  and  he  excused 
himself  by  saying,  he  thought  he  did  for  the  best. 
But,  sir,  did  I  not  tell  you  every  stage,  and  prom 
ise  information  if  any  changes  were  necessa 
ry?  He  said  yes  —  but  he  thought  he  was  doing 
for  the  best.  I  was  obliged  to  tell  him  he  had  no 
right  to  think.  I  arrested  and  broke,  and  sent 


LETTERS.  197 

him  home  to  think  and  contrive.     But  this  is  an 
out-of-the-way  story — Bordeaux  is  the  word  — 
and  with  love  to  my  boy  and  mamma,  I  am,  my 
dear  girl,  your  most  affectionate  friend, 

WILLIAM. 

XXI. 

Lisbon,  July  31st,  1787. 

And  I  stand  my  hand,  that  is  to  say,  having 
played  the  game  of  twenty-one,  I  stop  and  beat 
you.  It  is  a  long  time  though,  my  dear,  since  20 
was  dated  ;  but  your  goodness  will  form  many 
excuses,  and  my  candour  when  I  see  you  will 
satisfy  you  relative  to  the  long  silence.  I  have 
been  every  moment  employed  since  I  arrived  ;  I 
have  got  through  all  my  affairs  well,  equal  to  my 
expectation,  and  have  been  received  and  treated 
with  every  mark  of  politeness  and  respect  I  could 
wish.  My  last  gave  you  an  account  of  my  recep 
tion  at  the  Advanced  Garrison,  and  I  have  found 
no  diminution  of  attention.  I  have  had  two 
interviews  with  the  minister,  and  doubt  not  but 
my  report  to  Congress  will  be  acceptable ;  but 
more  of  this  when  I  see  you,  which  I  think,  Hea 
ven  favouring,  will  not  now  be  long.  I  have  re 
ceived  No.  8  and  9  ;  I  thank  you  for  not  strictly 
attending  to  your  determination,  relative  to  your 
depositing  letters  for  me  at  Bordeaux.  I  shall 
profit  by  the  hint  in  your  last,  and  embark  for 
Fal mouth  in  five  or  six  days  from  this,  so  that 
17* 


198  LETTERS. 

the  next  place  you  will  hear  from  me  will  be 
there  ;  and  then,  very,  very  soon  my  love,  I  will 
be  with  you.  It  will  happen  fortunately,  if  you 
should  be  on  a  visit  to  some  friends  about  Exeter, 
who  I  have  often  heard  your  mamma  speak  of; 
a  line  left  for  me  at  the  post-offices  of  Falmouth 
and  Exeter,  informing  where  you  are,  (fee.  would 
put  every  thing  straight.  But  you  will  have  fin 
ished  your  jaunt  before  that,  and  I  shall  have 
nothing  to  do  after  I  land,  if  I  find  no  orders  at 
the  post- office,  than  to  clatter  away  for  Grosvenor 
Square  as  quick  as  possible. 

I  was  some  days  past  at  an  entertainment  of  the 
French  Ambassador's  ;  he  outshines  brilliancy  it 
self.  The  company  collected  in  number  about 
200  at  and  before  8,  and  after  looking  very  agree 
able  at  ea<?h  other  for  about  half  an  hour,  were 
called  into  another  apartment,  where  a  very  neat 
theatre  was  well  arranged,  and  the  ambassadress, 
and  her  sister,  with  two  French  noblemen,  and 
one  or  two  small  characters,  entertained  the  com 
pany  with  a  pretty,  light  French  comedy  of  two 
acts.  It  was  performed  with  great  vivacity,  and 
the  ladies,  as  in  every  thing  they  undertake,  dis 
covered  a  sprightly,  pretty  genius.  After  the 
play,  the  gardens,  which  are  extensive,  were  well 
illuminated,  and  the  company  strolled  through 
them.  At  the  extremity  of  the  walk  was  a  very 
spacious  hall  formed  by  grape-vines,  well  lighted, 
with  music,  and  the  young  part  of  the  company 


LETTERS.  199 

soon  fell  a  dancing.  For  the  graver,  a  band  of 
good  music  kept  constantly  playing  soft,  gentle 
tunes,  whose  melody  attracted  not  a  few,  and 
furnished  amusement  for  those  who  thought  the 
gardens  and  the  night  air  better  avoided.  Time 
passed  thus  until  one,  when  a  very  elegant  sup 
per  was  served.  If  I  was  to  take  this  as  a  stand 
ard,  I  should  suppose  supper  to  be  their  favourite 
meal.  After  supper,  the  company  rose  and  return 
ed  to  the  dance,  I  had  enough,  and  went  to  bed. 
The  French  seem  determined  to  lose  no  opportu 
nity  in  ingratiating  themselves  every  where  by 
their  politeness  and  affability.  Apropos:  the 
French  ambassadress  here  is  elegance  itself ;  she 
appears  about  five  or  seven  and  twenty,  with  a 
most  perfect  form,  and  a  soft  animating  counte 
nance.  You  ask  me  about  Spanish  ladies  —  it  is 
the  kingdom  of  ugliness  ;  the  polite  circle  here  is 
handsome,  and  what  I  have  seen  of  their  man 
ners,  I  like  them  something  better  than  their 
neighbours.  But  I'll  tell  you  the  whole  story 
when  I  see  you  ;  until  I  reach  Falmouth,  adieu. 

w.  s.  s. 

XXII. 

Falmouth,  August  20th,  1787. 

Perhaps  by  this  time  you  may  have  received  my 
last  from  Lisbon.  I  have  now  the  pleasure  of  in 
forming  my  friend  of  my  arrival  here  this  day  in 
the  packet  from  that  place,  rather  a  little  deranged 


200  LETTERS. 

by  my  journeys  and  voyage,  at  least  rendered 
much  lighter.  I  shall  lose  no  more  time  in  being 
with  you,  than  what  an  attention  to  my  health 
requires.  My  business  at  Lisbon  was  brought  to 
a  very  agreeable  and  honourable  period,  and  I 
left  it  well  satisfied ;  a  little  pride,  which  some 
times  on  occasion  I  can  bring  into  play,  and  a 
little  address,  produced  wonders,  and  made  the 
diplomatic  corps  stare.  I  came  off  with  the  Con 
tinental  colours  flying,  and  shall  soon  have  the 
happiness  of  laying  them  at  your  feet.  Kiss  the 
boy,  and  remember  me  to  papa  and  mamma.  I 
am,  my  dear,  yours  sincerely  and  affectionately, 

w.  s.  s. 

xxni. 

Falmouth,  August  22d,  1787. 

I  wrote  you,  my  love,  the  first  thing  I  did  after  my 
landing  here  on  the  20th  ;  I  then  proposed  setting 
off  from  this,  yesterday  or  this  morning  ;  but  I  am 
in  check.  I  was  yesterday  at  4  o'clock,  visited  by 
an  ague  and  fever,  which  shook  and  warmed  me 
alternately  pretty  tolerably  ;  this  day  I  am  free 
from  it,  and  with  the  advice  of  a  very  good  doctor 
who  attends  me,  I  hope  soon  to  be  allowed  to  put 
myself  in  motion  towards  one  who  possesses  all  my 
affections  and  merits  all  my  love.  The  acquaint 
ance  which  I  formed  in  this  place  when  I  arrived 
from  America,  and  the  letters  of  introduction  which 
I  brought  from  Lisbon,  insure  me  every  civility  and 


LETTERS.  201 

respect  I  can  wish.  I  am  visited  and  attended  in  a 
very  particular  manner,  and  want  for  nothing  but 
to  be  enabled  to  bid  them  farewell,  and  hasten  to 
you.  It  is  a  painful  detention  to  be  so  near,  and 
upon  the  same  island,  and  not  be  able  to  advance. 
You  must  not  write,  my  friend,  for  I  am  in  hopes 
before  this  reaches  you  to  be  on  my  way  to  you. 
I  shall  pass  through  Exeter,  Tauriton,  Bath, 
Marlborough,  &c.,  as  being  the  best  road  —  hav 
ing  the  best  horses  and  accommodations  — for  a 
few  days  longer,  and  this  painful  separation  I 
hope  will  be  at  an  end.  Yours, 

w.  s.  s. 


XX IV. 

Exeter,  August  27th,  1787,  Monday, 

half  past  four  o'clock,  P.  M. 

I  have  run  away  thus  far  from  my  fever,  my 
friend,  and  find  myself  increasing  in  health  and 
spirits  as  I  get  nearer  to  you  —  but  I  am  little 
more  than  a  travelling  shadow.  I  have  had  a 
tight  time  of  it,  as  we  Yankees  say,  but  thank 
Heaven  it  is  over,  and  7  once  more  permitted  to 
advance  upon  the  delightful  theatre  of  health ;  the 
real  charms  of  which  none  but  those  who  have 
been  forced  by  the  arrangements  of  Nature,  or 
who  have  fallen  from  it  by  their  own  folly,  or 
imprudence,  seem  to  be  proper  judges  of,  and 
even  some  of  them  upon  their  restoration,  run  on 
heedless  of  the  lesson.  I  shall  compose  myself 


202  LETTERS. 

for  this  day,  and  get  in  motion  again  about  nine 
to-morrow,  and  lodge  atTaunton  to-morrow  night, 
and  thus  gently  I  am  obliged  to  approach.  I  hope 
after  I  pass  Bath,  to  be  able  to  be  a  little  more 
lengthy  in  my  journey  ;  at  any  rate,  1  think  I  may 
venture  to  say,  you  may  expect  me  to  dinner  on 
Friday. 

Heaven  bless  and  protect  you  and  the  dear  boy. 
Remember  me  to  sir  and  mamma.     Yours, 

w.  s.  s. 


TO  MISS  ADAMS. 

Paris,  August  13th,  1783. 

MY  DEAR  DAUGHTER  I 

I  have  received  your  affectionate  letter  of  the 
10th  of  May,  with  great  pleasure,  and  another 
from  your  mother  of  the  28th  and  29th  of  April, 
which  by  mistake  I  omitted  to  mention  in  my 
letter  to  her  to-day.  Your  education  and  your 
welfare,  my  dear  child,  are  very  near  my  heart ; 
and  nothing  in  this  life  would  contribute  so  much 
to  my  happiness,  next  to  the  company  of  your 
mother,  as  yours.  I  have  reason  to  say  this  by 
the  experience  I  have  had  of  the  society  of  your 
brother,  whom  I  brought  with  me  from  the  Hague. 
He  is  grown  to  be  a  man,  and  the  world  says  they 
should  take  him  for  my  younger  brother,  if  they 
did  not  know  him  to  be  my  son.  I  have  great 
satisfaction  in  his  behaviour,  as  well  as  in  the  im 
provements  he  has  made  in  his  travels,  and  the 


LETTERS.  203 

reputation  he  has  left  behind  him  wherever  he 
has  been.  He  is  very  studious  and  delights  in 
nothing  but  books,  which  alarms  me  for  his 
health  ;  because,  like  me,  he  is  naturally  inclined 
to  be  fat.  His  knowledge  and  his  judgment  are 
so  far  beyond  his  years,  as  to  be  admired  by  all 
who  have  conversed  with  him.  I  lament,  how 
ever,  that  he  could  not  have  his  education  at  Har 
vard  College,  where  his  brothers  shall  have  theirs, 
if  Providence  shall  afford  me  the  means  of  sup 
porting  the  expense  of  it.  If  my  superiors  shall 
permit  me  to  come  home,  I  hope  it  will  be  soon  ; 
if  they  mean  I  should  stay  abroad,  I  am  not  able 
to  say  what  I  shall  do,  until  I  know  in  what  ca 
pacity.  One  thing  is  certain,  that  I  will  not  live 
long  without  my  family,  and  another  is  equally 
so,  that  I  can  never  consent  to  see  my  wife  and 
children  croaking  with  me  like  frogs  in  the  Fens 
of  Holland,  and  burning  and  shivering  alternately 
with  fevers,  as  Mr.  Thaler,  Charles,  Stephen,  and 
myself  have  done  :  your  brother  John  alone  had 
the  happiness  to  escape,  but  I  was  afraid  to  trust 
him  long  amidst  those  pestilential  steams. 

You  have  reason  to  wish  for  a  taste  for  history, 
which  is  as  entertaining  and  instructive  to  the  fe 
male  as  to  the  male  sex.  My  advice  to  you  would 
be  to  read  the  history  of  your  own  country,  which 
although  it  may  not  afford  so  splendid  objects  as 
some  others,  before  the  commencement  of  the  late 
war,  yet  since  that  period,  it  is  the  most  interest- 


204  LETTERS. 

ing  chapter  in  the  history  of  the  world,  and  before 
that  period  is  intensely  affecting  to  every  native 
American.  You  will  find  among  your  own  an 
cestors,  by  your  mother's  side  at  least,  characters 
which  deserve  your  attention.  It  is  by  the  female 
world,  that  the  greatest  and  best  characters  among 
men  are  formed.  I  have  long  been  of  this  opinion 
to  such  a  degree,  that  when  1  hear  of  an  extraor 
dinary  man,  good  or  bad,  I  naturally,  or  habitually 
inquire  who  was  his  mother?  There  can  be  no 
thing  in  life  more  honourable  for  a  woman,  than 
to  contribute  by  her  virtues,  her  advice,  her  ex 
ample,  or  her  address,  to  the  formation  of  an  hus 
band,  a  brother,  or  a  son,  to  be  useful  to  the  world. 
Heaven  has  blessed  you,  my  daughter,  with  an 
understanding  and  a  consideration,  that  is  not 
found  every  day  among  young  women,  and  with 
a  mother  who  is  an  ornament  to  her  sex.  You 
will  take  care  that  you  preserve  your  own  char 
acter,  and  that  you  persevere  in  a  course  of  con 
duct,  worthy  of  the  example  that  is  every  day  be 
fore  you.  With  the  most  fervent  wishes  for  your 
happiness,  I  am  your  affectionate  father, 

JOHN  ADAMS. 

TO  MRS.  SMITH. 

Philadelphia,  Feb.  21st,  1797. 
DEAR  CHILD: 

I  believe  I  have  not  acknowledged  your  favour 
of  the  20th  January,  which  I  received  in  its 
season. 


LETTERS. 


205 


I  hope  your  apprehensions  that "  the  party  who 
have  embarrassed  the  President,  and  exerted  them 
selves  to  divide  the  election,  will  endeavour  to 
render  my  situation  as  uncomfortable  as  possi 
ble,"  will  be  found  to  be  without  sufficient  foun 
dation  ;  I  have  seen,  on  the  contrary,  a  disposition 
to  acquiesce,  and  hope  it  will  increase.  I  am  not 
at  all  alarmed ;  I  know  my  countrymen  very 
well. 

If  the  way  to  do  good  to  my  country,  were  to 
render  myself  popular,  I  could  easily  do  it.  But 
extravagant  popularity  is  not  the  road  to  public 
advantage. 

By  the  4th  of  March  I  shall  know  what  to  do. 
I  cannot  build  my  house  till  the  foundation  is 
laid ;  at  present  I  know  not  what  house  I  shall 
have,  nor  what  means  to  furnish  it.  These  things 
will  be  determined  in  ten  days.  At  present  I  be 
lieve  it  will  be  best  for  your  mother  to  remain 
where  she  is  until  October.  I  shall  go  to  her  as 
soon  as  I  can. 

Your  brother  John  continues  to  give  the  high 
est  satisfaction  to  government  by  his  great  indus 
try,  his  deep  discernment,  his  independent  spirit, 
and  his  splendid  talents.  I  hear  such  commen 
dations  of  him  as  no  other  man  abroad  obtains. 

In  your  solitary  hours,  my  dear  daughter,  you 

will  have  a  delightful  opportunity  of  attending  to 

the  education  of  your  children,  to  give  them  a 

taste  and  attachment  to  study,  and  to  books.     A 

18 


206  LETTERS. 

taste  for  science  and  literature,  added  to  a  turn  for 
business,  never  can  fail  of  success  in  life.  With 
out  learning,  nothing  very  great  can  ever  be  ac 
complished  in  the  way  of  business.  But  not  only 
a  thirst  for  knowledge  should  be  excited,  and  a 
taste  for  letters  be  cultivated,  but  prudence,  pa 
tience,  justice,  temperance,  resolution,  modesty, 
and  self-cultivation,  should  be  recommended  to 
them  as  early  as  possible.  The  command  of  their 
passions,  the  restraint  of  their  appetites,  reverence 
for  superiors,  especially  parents,  a  veneration  for 
religion,  morals,  and  good  conduct. 

You  will  find  it  more  for  your  happiness  to 
spend  your  time  with  them  in  this  manner,  than 
to  be  engaged  in  fashionable  amusements,  and 
social  entertainments,  even  with  the  best  com 
pany. 

But  I  must  restrain  myself,  and  subscribe  the 
name  of  your  affectionate  father, 

JOHN  ADAMS. 

TO  MRS.  SMITH. 

Quincy,  September  26th,  1802. 
MY  DEAR  DAUGHTER: 

I  received  last  night  your  favour  of  the  17th, 
and  thank  you  for  the  pamphlet  you  sent  me ;  I 
had  read  those  before.  Most  of  the  pamphlets  are 
sent  me  by  one  and  another,  as  well  as  the  news 
papers. 

To  read  so  much   malignant   dulness    is    an 


LETTERS.  207 

odious  task,  but  it  cannot  well  be  avoided.  I 
have  the  history,  too,  of  my  administration.  Good 
God  !  is  this  a  public  man  sitting  in  judgment 
on  nations ;  and  have  the  American  people  so 
little  judgment,  taste,  arid  sense  as  to  endure  it? 

The  history  of  the  Clintonian  Faction,  as  it  is 
called,  I  shall  be  glad  to  see.  The  society  he  as 
serts  to  exist,  and  which  you  say  has  not  been  de 
nied,  I  fear  is  of  more  consequence  than  you  seem 
to  be  aware  of. 

But  to  dismiss  this  society  for  the  present. 
There  is  another  set  of  beings  who  seem  to  have 
unlimited  influence  over  the  American  people. 
They  are  a  detachment,  1  fear,  from  a  very  black 
regiment  in  Europe,  which  was  more  than  once 
described  to  me  by  Stockdale  of  Piccadilly,  whom 
you  must  have  seen  at  my  house  in  Grosvenor 
Square.  "  Mr.  Adams,"  said  the  bookseller,  "  the 
men  of  learning  in  this  town  are  stark  mad.  I 
know  one  hundred  gentlemen  in  London  of  great 
learning  and  ingenuity,  excellent  writers  upon 
any  subject,  any  one  of  whom  I  can  hire  at  any 
time  for  one  guinea  a  day,  to  write  upon  any 
theme,  for  or  against  any  cause,  in  praise,  or  in 
defamation  of  any  character."  A  number  of  the 
most  profligate  of  these  have  come  to  this  country 
very  hungry,  and  are  getting  their  bread  by  de 
stroying  all  distinction  between  right  and  wrong, 
truth  and  falsehood,  virtue  and  vice. 

You  speak  of  "  moderate  people  on  both  sides  ;" 


208  LETTERS. 

if  you  know  of  any  such,  I  congratulate  you  on 
your  felicity.  All  I  know  of  that  description  are 
of  no  more  consequence  than  if  there  were  none. 
Commerce  will  decline,  and  the  revenue  fail. 
What  expedient  the  government  will  have  re 
course  to,  1  presume  not  to  conjecture.  I  mourn 
over  the  accumulated  disgraces  we  are  bringing 
on  ourselves,  but  I  can  do  nothing. 

The  prisoners  from  St.  Domingo  will  be  dan 
gerous  settlers  in  the  southern  states.  The  French 
care  very  little  whether  turning  them  loose  is  in 
sult  or  injury,  provided  we  will  cordially  receive, 
or  tamely  connive  at  them. 

My  health  is  good,  and  my  spirits  would  be 
high,  if  the  prospect  before  us  did  not  present 
clouds  portending  bad  weather. 

My  love  to  Col.  Smith  and  the  children.  The 
young  gentlemen,  I  hope,  think  of  Greece  and 
Italy.  I  am  your  affectionate  father, 

JOHN  ADAMS. 


LETTERS.  209 


TO   MISS   SMITH. 

Quincy,  January  24th,  1808. 

MY  DEAR  CAROLINE  I 

To-morrow  will  be  a  fortnight  since  you  left 
me  *;  I  have  watched  the  weather  with  much  so 
licitude,  and  when  we  had  snow,  as  we  had  the 
Thursday  after  you  set  out,  I  hoped  it  might 
speed  your  journey,  provided  there  should  not  be 
too  great  a  quantity ;  although  the  storm  was  se 
vere  and  cold  on  Saturday,  it  was  pleasant  sleigh 
ing.  I  flattered  myself  we  should  enjoy  it  for  a 
week  or  ten  days,  but  so  changeable  the  season 
that  on  Monday  we  had  a  partial  thaw.  If  you 
have  had  similar  weather  I  fear  you  have  not 
reached  your  journey's  end.  We  were  rejoiced 
to  hear  from  you  at  Worcester,  and  afterward  at 
Northampton.  A  letter  from  a  travelling  friend 
is  a  great  treat  to  those  who  sit  by  their  fire 
sides,  compassionate  their  toils,  sometimes  fancy 
ing  that  they  must  suffer  from  the  cold,  from  the 
snow,  from  the  rain,  hard  beds,  scanty  clothes, 
small  pillows.  &c.  But  patience,  my  dear  girl, 
will  make  a  smooth  road  where  the  pick-axe  has 
never  levelled  the  inequalities,  and  soften  the 
mattress  and  the  pillow. 

18* 


210  LETTERS. 

You  will  find  new  scenes  opening  before  you  ; 
in  the  venerable  oaks,  you  must  fancy  you  see 
the  image  of  those  grandparents  you  have  left 
behind,  and  every  tree  of  the  forest  you  must  pic 
ture  some  friend  or  acquaintance,  even  to  our  little 
A.,  who  daily  calls  for  you.  You  must  write  me 
how  you  spend  your  time,  what  are  your  daily 
occupations  and  amusements,  what  acquaintance 
you  make  with  the  quail,  the  partridge,  and  the 
pheasant.  If  you  find  sufficient  amusement  in 
the  winter,  the  spring  will  give  you  new  employ 
ment,  and  new  pleasures. 

"  You  must  mark  how  spring  the  tended  plants, 
How  Nature  paints  her  colours,  how  the  bee 
Sits  on  the  bloom  extracting  liquid  sweets." 

I  shall  fancy  you  flitting  about  among  the  trees 
gathering  the  sweets  of  the  season.  Your  friends 
were  all  much  surprised  at  your  sudden  flight, 
and  regret  that  they  had  not  the  opportunity  of 
bidding  you  adieu.  I  shall  send  my  regards  to 
uncle  Justus,  and  congratulate  him  on  the  acqui 
sition  of  his  female  friends;  tell  him  they  will 
make  the  wilderness  blossom  like  the  rose,  and 
add  much  comfort,  I  hope,  to  his  domestic  happi 
ness.  He  deserves,  I  think,  all  they  can  bestow. 

I  think  of  you  more  on  Sunday  than  on  any 
other  day.  If  you  cannot  attend  public  worship, 
you  can  spend  your  Sabbaths  in  a  useful  manner, 
as  Mr.  W.  told  us  to-day,  every  moment  should 
be  devoted  to  some  useful  purpose,  that  we  might 


LETTERS,  211 

ask  the  moments  as  they  passed,  what  report  they 
bore  to  Heaven  —  that  the  more  we  cultivated  and 
improved  our  intellectual  powers,  the  more  capa 
ble  we  should  be  of  enjoyment  in  a  higher  and 
more  perfect  state  of  existence  ;  the  nearer  we 
should  be  allied  to  angels,  and  the  spirits  of  just 
men  made  perfect ;  and  that  in  order  to  cultivate 
our  faculties  to  advantage,  we  must  have  order  and 
method  in  all  our  affairs. 

I  am  called  to  close  my  letter,  yet  I  have  not 
said  half  I  intended ;  take  it  as  it  is,  warm  from 
the  heart  of  your  affectionate  grandmother, 

A.  ADAMS. 


TO   MISS  SMITH. 

Quincy,  May  28th,  1808. 

MY   DEAR    CAROLINE  : 

Your  letter  of  May  the  8th,  your  grandpapa 
brought  home  with  him  from  church,  on  Sunday 
the  20th  ;  owing  to  sickness  I  was  not  able  to  go, 
and  am  yet  confined  to  my  chamber.  My  fever 
and  cough  are  both  leaving  me,  and  I  hope  a  few 
days  more  will  give  me  health  sufficient  to  enjoy 
the  fine  season. 

I  have  been  reading  a  novel  called  the  Wild 
Irish  Girl.  Why  the  term  wild  is  given,  I  know 
not,  unless  as  a  ridicule  upon  those  who  imbibe 
national  prejudices,  merely  from  vague  report. 
She  is  represented  as  living  in  an  ancient  barony 
with  her  father,  who  in  the  wars  had  been  de- 


212  LETTERS. 

spoiled  of  his  property,  and  had  retired  with  his 
daughter,  her  old  nurse,  and  Father  John,  a  learn 
ed,  polite,  and  liberal  minded  priest,  from  whom 
she  received  her  education.  Here  she  lived,  a 
recluse  from  the  world,  but  with  a  lively  imagi 
nation,  a  sportive  fancy,  a  devotion  to  music, 
which  she  practised  upon  her  harp,  the  favourite 
instrument  of  her  country.  She  studied,  and  was 
perfectly  versed  in  the  historic  knowledge  of  her 
native  land  ;  as  a  resource,  she  became  a  botanist, 
and  on  a  thousand  occasions,  displayed  such  a 
love  of  nature  and  its  productions,  which  she  de 
scribes  so  artlessly,  with  such  a  vivid  display  of 
superior  powers,  that  she  charms  and  enchants 
the  reader.  She  had  gathered  the  first  rosebud 
of  the  spring,  which  she  had  watched  with  much 
care,  and  presented  to  a  young  stranger,  whom 
chance  had  led  to  the  barony,  and  who  had  for 
some  months  been  an  inmate  there,  and  who  at 
the  request  of  her  father  had  been  her  preceptor 
in  drawing.  In  return  she  repeated  to  him  a  lit 
tle  ode  from  the  French.  "Oh beautiful!  beauti 
ful!"  exclaimed  Glorvina,  "I  thank  you  for  this 
beautiful  ode;  the  rose  was  always  my  idol  flower 
in  all  its  different  stages  of  existence  ;  it  speaks  a 
language  my  heart  understands,  from  its  young 
bud's  first  crimson  glow,  to  the  last  sickly  blush 
of  its  faded  bloom;  it  is  the  flower  of  sentiment 
in  all  its  sweet  transitions  ;  it  breathes  a  moral, 
and  seems  to  preserve  an  undecayingsoulin  that 


LETTERS. 


213 


fragrant  essence  which  still  survives  the  bloom 
and  symmetry  of  the  fragile  form  which  every 
beam  too  ardent,  every  gale  too  chill,  injures  and 
destroys." 

Your  little  darling  A.  has  been  sick,  and  looks 
like  the  flower  or  the  bud  in  its  faded  form,  which 
I  have  just  been  describing ;  more  interesting  in 
decay  than  bloom  —  one  exciting  all  the  pleasing 
sensations,  the  other  a  softer  and  tenderer  senti 
ment. 

Our  friends  here  are  all  well.  To-morrow 
will  be  our  general  election  day;  the  embargo 
should  not  be  complained  of  by  the  federalists,  for 
it  has  increased  their  number  ten  fold,  and  will 
be  like  to  give  them  such  a  weight  in  the  coun 
cils  of  the  nation,  as  no  other  measure  of  a  peace 
able  kind  could  have  effected. 

TVith  the  love  and  affection  of  the  whole  family, 
jointly  and  severally,  I  close  my  letter  to  my  dear 
Caroline,  and  am  her  truly  affectionate  grand 
mother,  A.  A. 

Quincy,  August  30th,  1808. 

MY  DEAR  CAROLINE  ! 

Your  apology  for  not  having  written  before  was 
accepted  by  your  grandmother.  To  be  attentive 
to  our  guests  is  not  only  true  kindness,  but  true 
politeness  ;  for  if  there  is  a  virtue  which  is  its  own 
reward,  hospitality  is  that  virtue.  We  remember 
slight  attentions,  after  we  have  forgotten  great 


214  LETTERS. 

benefits  ;  sweetness  of  temper,  easiness  of  be 
haviour,  and  kindness  of  disposition,  are  pecu 
liarly  engaging  in  youth,  and  when  found  in  age, 
adorn  life's  decline.  But  why  need  I  recommend 
these  virtues  to  my  dear  girl,  when  she  has  one  of 
the  first  patterns  for  her  imitation  before  her  in 
her  father,  whose  cordial  hospitality,  and  true  po 
liteness,  are  known  to  all  who  have  any  knowl 
edge  of  him,  either  in  the  camp,  the  city,  or  the 
wilderness  ?  Were  it  not  for  this,  and  the  excel 
lent  example  you  have  before  you,  for  prudence, 
moderation,  and  discretion,  in  another  character, 
I  should  fear  you  would  become  rusticated,  and 
lose  that  polish,  which  is  of  some  value  in  the 
polite  world,  and  without  which,  I  have  known 
many  a  talent  hidden  under  a  bushel,  instead  of 
shedding  a  lustre  all  around.*  A.  A. 

Quincy,  Feb.  2d,  1809. 

MY   DEAR  CAROLINE  : 

I  have  not  written  to  you  this  year,  and  this  is 
the  second  month  of  it !  and  let  us  ask  the  rising 
year,  now  open  to  our  view  yet  wrapped  in  dark 
ness,  whither  dost  thou  lead  ?  Let  cheerful  hope 
receive  the  welcome  guest,  gratefully  recollecting 
the  many  blessings  of  the  past  year,  and  commit 
ting  ourselves  to  the  wise  and  overruling  Provi 
dence,  who  suffers  not  a  sparrow  to  fall  to  the 
ground  without  his  notice. 

I  have  sympathized  with  you  in  the  trouble  you 

*  Only  a  part  of  this  letter  is  given. 


LETTERS.  215 

have  experienced  since  I  wrote  to  yon  last ;  first 
upon  account  of  the  dangerous  accident  your 
uncle  met  with,  and  then  upon  the  death  of  a  do 
mestic.  I  know  your  mind  is  susceptible  offender 
impressions;  these  were  implanted  in  the  human 
breast  for  wise  purposes.  You  have  cause  for 
great  thankfulness,  that  although  death  entered 
your  habitation,  your  uncle  was  spared  to  you, 
whose  loss  would  have  been  much  more  to  be  de 
plored  and  lamented,  than  the  one  whom  it  pleased 
Heaven  to  take.  Death  at  any  time,  and  in  any 
form,  is  a  solemn  event. 

"  Nor  is  the  heavenly  warning  vain, 
Which  calls  to  watch  and  pray." 

I  have  now  to  thank  you  for  your  charming 
letter  of  December.  Cultivate,  my  dear,  those 
lively  spirits,  and  that  sweet  innocence  and  con 
tentment,  which  will  rob  the  desert  of  its  gloom, 
and  cause  the  wilderness  to  bloom  around  you. 
Destitute  of  these  qualifications,  a  palace  would 
not  yield  satisfaction,  or  the  most  affluent  circum 
stances  bestow  peace  of  mind,  or  tranquillity  of 
heart.  Always  remember  that  you  are  account 
able  to  that  being  who  brought  you  into  existence, 
for  your  time  and  talents  ;  that  you  were  not  born 
for  yourself,  but  to  fill  every  hour  with  some 
useful  employment,  as  says  the  song : 

"  Man  was  created  for  useful  employ, 

From  earth's  first  creation  till  now  ; 
And  'tis  good  for  his  health,  his  comfort  and  joy, 
To  live  by  the  sweat  of  his  brow." 


216  LETTERS. 

Do  not  say  grandmamma  preaches.  I  know 
my  Caroline  thinks  and  reflects  seriously,  and  she 
will  lay  up  these  admonitions,  and  value  them 
when  her  grandmother  can  no  longer  indite  them. 
I  treasure  up  and  venerate  many  of  the  maxims 
of  my  good  grandmother  Quincy,  as  the  most 
precious  of  relics  ;  with  her,  I  passed  my  early, 
wild,  and  giddy  days,  for  of  such  I  had  my  full 
share  ;  but 

"  Her  easy  presence  chocked  no  decent  mirth  ; 
She  still  remembered  that  she  once  was  young, 
And  laughing  would  instruct." 

Have  you  a  world  of  snow  ?  We  have  a  much 
larger  quantity  than  last  year.  It  is  my  misfor 
tune  to  be  confined  to  the  house  at  this  season  ; 
snow  does  not  suit  my  constitution,  it  gives  me 
the  rheumatism;  I  have  more  of  it  now  than  is 
agreeable  ;  the  Dr.  has  put  me  on  calomel  and 
opium  pills,  and  a  water  gruel  regimen  ;  I  hope 
it  will  go  off  in  a  few  days ;  confinement  does 
not  suit  me  or  my  family. 

Does  W.  go  to  Philadelphia ;  or  does  he  wait 
for  the  day  to  dawn?  it  is  time  to  look  for  a 
change.  Where  the  light  is  to  spring  up  I  know 
not ;  the  people  of  this  state  are  wrought  up  to  a 
high  tone.  I  hope  they  will  be  induced  to  keep 
the  peace,  and  try  all  lawful  means  for  redress. 
God  defend  us  from  a  civil  war ;  but  oppression 
will  produce  it,  and  our  rulers  will  have  much  to 
answer  for.  You  say  you  hate  politics ;  but 


LETTERS.  217 

when  your  native  country  is  so  seriously  threat 
ened,  you  cannot  be  a  descendant  from  the  spirit 
of  '76,  to  be  totally  indifferent  to  what  is  passing. 
From  your  affectionate  grandmother, 

A.   A. 

Quincy,  August  12th,  1809. 

MY  DEAR  CAROLINE  : 

Last  Saturday  my  dear  children  and  grand 
children  sailed  in  the  ship  Horace,  Capt.  Beckford, 
for  St.  Petersburg!! ;  this  separation  from  a  dear 
son,  at  the  advanced  age  both  of  your  grandfather 
and  myself,  was  like  taking  our  last  leave  of  him, 
and  was  felt  by  us  both  with  the  keenest  anguish. 
Our  hearts  were  "garnered  up  in  him,"  perhaps 
too  closely,  and  we  were  called  to  this  trial  to 
wean  us  from  too  strong  an  attachment  to  this 
earth. 

"Hope  which  springs  eternal  in  the  human 
breast,"  whose  figure  is  represented  as  leaning  up 
on  an  anchor,  still  whispers  a  consolation  to  which 
the  sorrowing  heart  still  clings,  and  is  buoyed 
up  by  it,  that  we  may  yet  meet  again.  To  the 
Sovereign  Disposer  of  all  events,  I  would  strive 
cheerfully  to  submit.  I  could  sustain  the  separa 
tion  with  more  fortitude  if  one  equally  dear  to  me* 
was  not  also  separated  far  from  me,  though  not  in 
a  foreign  land,  yet  so  distant,  that  I  am  cut  off 
from  all  personal  intercourse ;  that  I  can  hear 

*  Mrs.  Adams'  only  daughter,  Mrs.  Smith. 

19 


218  LETTERS. 

frequently  from  her  is  a  comfort  and  consola 
tion  to  me.  "I  would  not,"  says  Mrs.  Grant, 
whose  letters  I  have  sent  your  mamma,  I  think, 
u  desire  to  live  a  day  longer,  than  while  my  heart 
was  warmed  by  an  affectionate  intercourse  with 
those  I  love." 

To  you  I  have  long  been  indebted  for  a  letter, 
which  merited  a  much  earlier  reply ;  I  knew 
you  were  enjoying  the  society  of  your  young 
and  valued  friends,  therefore  was  the  less  anxious 
about  writing,  as  I  was  so  fully  occupied  in  my 
own  family.  Be  assured  of  the  aifection  of  your 
grandmother,*  A.  A. 

Quincy,  Dec.  9th,  1809. 

MY  DEAR  CAROLINE  I 

Thursday,  30th  November,  was  our  Thanks 
giving  Day;  I  was  not  able  to  attend  church, 
owing  to  my  eye,  which  I  regretted :  our  good 
minister  is  always  excellent  upon  particular  oc 
casions  ;  I  am  told  he  was  upon  this. 

At  dinner  I  looked  round,  I  hope  with  a  thank 
ful  heart,  but  alas  !  how  many  of  my  dear  child 
ren  were  absent,  not  one  of  them  to  give  pleasure 
to  the  festive  table ;  the  young  shoots  and  branches 
remained ;  I  had  two  from  each  family ;  these 
promising  successors  of  their  dear  parents  rejoiced 
over  their  plum-puddings  without  knowing  what 
were  the  reflections  and  anxious  solicitude  of 
their  grandmother,  respecting  some  of  their  absent 
parents. 

*  Only  a  part  of  this  letter  is  given. 


LETTERS.  219 

For  health,  food,  and  raiment,  for  peace,  and  for 
society,  and  unnumbered  other  favours,  may  my 
heart  pour  forth  its  grateful  effusions,  and  in  the 
words  of  the  poet  I  may  say, 

"  When  all  thy  mercies,  O  my  God  ! 

My  rising  soul  surveys, 
Transported  with  the  view,  I'm  lost 
In  wonder,  love,  and  praise." 

That  no  inroad  has  been  made  by  death  amongst 
any  of  my  near  and  dear  connections,  is  a  sin 
cere  source  of  grateful  remembrance ;  may  the 
lives  and  health  of  every  branch  be  prolonged, 
until,  like  a  shock  of  corn  fully  ripe,  we  may  be 
gathered  to  our  fathers. 

No  apology  is  ever  necessary  to  my  dear  C. 
for  any  serious  reflections  which  may  fall  from 
the  pen  of  her  aged  grandmother ;  reflection  be 
comes  all  ages,  and  she  does  not  the  less  delight 
in  the  innocent  gayety  and  vivacity  of  youth ; 

"  She  still  remembers  that  she  once  was  young." 

I  am  rejoiced  to  find  that  you  intend  to  turn 
your  spinning  wheel;  the  more  we  are  qualified 
to  help  ourselves,  the  less  dependent  we  are  upon 
others  ;  from  the  present  temper  of  old  England, 
it  looks  as  if  we  should  be  less  her  customers  than 
formerly.  I  would  recommend  the  use  of  them 
in  every  family.  We  had  better  return  to  the 
pastoral  age,  than  suffer  the  domination  of  any 
foreign  power. 

It  is  said,  that  the  Emperor  Augustus  wore  no 


220  LETTERS. 

clothes  but  such  as  were  made  by  the  Empress 
and  her  daughters ;  and  Olympias  did  the  same 
for  Alexander. 

The  web  of  Penelope  is  well  known  to  you,  as 
related  by  Homer  in  his  Odyssey  ;  her  maids  who 
attended  her  are  admonished  by  Ulysses  to  retire 
with  her,  and  with  a  delicate  reprimand  for  their 
delay — 

"  To  whom  the  king.     Ill  suits  your  sex  to  stay 
Alone  with  man  !  ye  modest  maids,  away  ! 
Go  with  the  Queen,  the  spindle  guide  or  cull, 
(The  partners  of  her  cares)  the  silver  wool." 

Thus,  my  dear  girl,  you  have  before  you  some 
of  the  most  ancient,  illustrious  examples  to  excite 
your  ambition  and  imitation.  Your  mother  ac 
cuses  me  of  a  neglect  in  her  education  upon  this 
head,  and  I  plead  guilty  to  the  charge  ;  I  would, 
by  my  advice  to  you,  endeavour  to  rectify  my  de 
ficiency  towards  her.  I  might  have  added  to  my 
list  of  worthies,  Solomon's  virtuous  woman,  who 
seeketh  wool  and  flax,  and  worketh  willingly 
with  her  hands. 

I  have  long  been  indebted  to  you  for  a  letter, 
but  my  finger  atone  time,  and  my  eye  at  another, 
have  prevented  my  writing — the  evening  would 
be  valuable  to  me  for  my  correspondence  if  my 
eyes  would  bear  me  out.  Old  age  with  its  in. 
firmities  assail  me.  I  have  reason  to  be  thankful 
that  my  senses  are  so  much  in  action,  that  my 
hearing  is  not  at  all  impaired,  but  my  memory 


LETTERS.  221 

and  recollection  are  not  what  they  once  were. 
My  heart  is  still  warm,  and  my  affections  fervent 
towards  my  dear  children  and  friends  :  when  they 
cease  to  beat  for  their  welfare  and  happiness,  na 
ture  itself  will  expire,  and  the  cold  hand  of  death 
close  the  eyes  of  your  affectionate  grandmother, 

A.    A. 


Quincy,  Aug.  llth,  1811. 

MT  DEAR  CAROLINE  ! 

I  do  not  know  how  our  account  stands,  whether 
I  am  indebted  for  a  letter  or  you,  but  I  shall  not 
be  very  strict  with  you  ;  I  am  always  delighted 
with  your  letters,  whether  to  me  or  to  Susan  ; 
we  talk  daily  of  you.  and  wish  for  you,  and 
when  I  think  how  far  you  all  are  from  me,  I  am 
ready  to  sit  down  and  weep. 

We  go  on  much  in  the  old  way  here  —  now  and 
then  a  large  party,  then  a  few  friends.  A.  A. 

Aug.  6th,  1812. 

MT  DEAR  C. 

I  received  your  letter  this  day,  written  from 
Springfield ;  this  has  been  a  relief  to  us  to  hear 
that  you  were  well,  and  that  your  dear  mother 
bore  her  journey  so  well. 

After  you  left  me  I  felt  no  restraint  upon  me, 

and  could  give  way  to  all  I  felt  and  all  I  had 

suppressed ;  my  harp  was  upon  the  willow,  and  my 

spirits  at  a  very  low  ebb ;  I  have  in  some  meas- 

19* 


222 


LETTERS. 


ure  recovered  them,  and  follow  you  daily  upon 
your  journey  :  when  1  think  of  my  privations,  I 
am  silenced  by  a  recollection  of  my  many  bless 
ings. 

I  enclose  you  a  volume  from  H.,  and  I  have 
written  to  your  mother  so  lately,  that  I  have  not 
a  brain  prolific  enough  to  entertain  you. 

I  could  inform  you  that  our  old  gardener  went 
to  France  in  the  winter,  and  did  not  expect  to  re 
turn  soon  enough  in  the  spring  ;  we  have  another 
in  his  stead,  who,  like  most  successors,  finds  fault 
with  his  predecessor,  that  this  should  have  been 
so,  and  that,  otherwise  ;  accordingly  he  must  make 
alterations  —  time  must  prove  whether  for  the 
better.  The  season,  although  cold,  is  more  for 
ward  than  last  year ;  the  grain  failed  in  all  parts 
of  the  state,  and  there  would  have  been  a  want 
and  scarcity  with  us,  if  we  had  no  other  cause ; 
but  the  blockade  of  our  harbours  has  cut  off  the 
coasting  trade,  we  cannot  get  grain  but  by  land 
from  the  south,  which  renders  it  very  high.  Flour 
is  at  17  dollars  a  barrel ;  this  is  a  calamity  which 
I  hope  will  not  last  long  if  we  have  a  fruitful 
season — bread,  the  staff  of  life  and  the  chief  re 
liance  of  the  poor,  should  be  kept  low. 

Our  seventy-fours  are  building  ;  our  little  navy 
shows  what  we  should  have  done  if  it  had  not 
been  impeded  in  its  growth:  but  to  compare 
great  things  with  small,  —  the  successor  to  the 
father  of  the  navy,  like  the  gardener,  thought 


LETTERS.  223 

that  this  was  not  necessary,  and  that  might  be 
laid  aside,  taxes  were  repealed,  lest  our  revenue 
should  be  so  abundant  that  we  should  commit 
mischief  with  it.  Blindness  to  the  future,  I  will 
not  say  in  this  instance,  kindly  given.  Well,  you 
tell  H.  she  must  not  write  politics  ;  now  it  is  just 
as  natural  for  me  to  fall  upon  them  as  to  breathe  ; 
it  distresses  me  to  see  so  many  of  my  kindred 
and  acquaintance,  whom  I  love  and  esteem,  going 
blindfold,  as  I  think  led  astray  by  deceivers,  as 
cribing  views  and  designs  to  the  government  of 
which  I  know  them  to  be  innocent. 

Come,  let  me  quit  this  subject.  How  many 
cows  do  you  have  upon  the  farm  ?  How  many 
ducks  have  you  raised  ?  How  many  chickens  ? 
We  have  found  them  so  mischievous,  we  have 
banished  them  all ;  not  a  solitary  hen  upon  our 
territories,  or  a  stately  cock  rears  his  head  upon 
the  place. 

I  was  called  away  last  evening  before  I  could 
close.  In  the  evening  we  have  a  room  full  some 
times  to  overflowing.  We  have  an  agreeable  ad 
dition  in  Mr.  A.'s  family  ;  since  his  return  from 
abroad  they  have  been  frequent  in  their  visits  to 
us.  He  is  the  most  sensible,  intelligent  gentle 
man  of  all  our  society;  rational  and  liberal  upon 
all  political  subjects.  He  has  been  to  Lisbon,  and 
to  Portugal,  associated  with  English  and  French 
officers  of  army  and  navy,  and  returns  to  his  own 
country,  astonished  at  the  partiality  that  prevails 


224  LETTERS. 

in  favour  of  foreign  countries,  and  at  the  opposi 
tion  to  the  government  of  our  own.  Well,  here 
I  am  again,  upon  the  old  topic ;  all  I  can  say  in 
excuse  is,  that  out  of  the  abundance  of  the  heart 
the  mouth  speaketh.  I  want  to  see  you  all. 
With  love,  regard,  and  esteem,  and  without  com 
pliment,  I  am  as  ever,  yours,  A.  A. 

TO  COL.  W.  S.  SMITH,  WASHINGTON. 

Quincy,  October  1st,  1819. 
DEAR  SIR  : 

It  is  already  three  weeks  since  you  left  us ;  I 
have  not  any  knowledge  of  your  progress  farther 
than  New-Haven,  where  General  Humphreys  in 
formed  me  that  he  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting 
you. 

I  wish  to  hear  from  you,  although  I  cannot  ex 
pect  that  you  have  anything  agreeable  of  a  pub 
lic  nature  to  communicate,  from  the  desolate 
walls  of  Washington.  I  will,  however,  turn  my 
face  from  that  forlorn  place,  and  congratulate  you 
upon  the  triumphant  victory  of  McDonough,  up 
on  Lake  Champlain;  and  of  McCombs  at  Platts- 
burgh,  which  has  brightened  the  splendour  of 
our  arms,  and  gathered  fresh  laurels  for  our 
country.  But  we  must  entwine  the  yew  with  the 
laurel,  over  the  bier  of  the  heroic  sons  of  Colum 
bia,  whose  lives  paid  the  forfeit  of  their  valour. 

I  wish  for  information  respecting  our  connec 
tions  at  Washington:  from  judge  Cranch,  letters 


LETTERS.  225 

have  been  received  by  his  friends  here,  but  I  do 
not  know  anything  of  our  other  friends,  whether 
they  have  been  sufferers.  Will  you  be  so  good  as 
to  inform  yourself,  and  write  me  word  ? 

Boston  continues  to  be  fortified  in  every  direc 
tion,  and  the  numerous  troops  collected  there, 
drilled  and  disciplined  seven  hours  every  day. 
All  apprehension  of  an  attack  upon  it  this  year 
appears  to  be  dissipated. 

I  perceive  the  apple  of  discord  is  thrown  out  in 
Congress,  and  the  removal  of  the  seat  of  govern 
ment  proposed.  A  warm  opposition  no  doubt 
will  ensue,  arid  the  powerful  name  of  the  founder 
of  Washington,  will  prevail  to  keep  you  there. 

I  should  like  to  hear  how  you  are  accommo 
dated  ;  I  know  you  can  submit  to  privations  like 
an  old  soldier. 

Clouds  and  darkness  hang  over  us ;  ways  and 
means  are  one  of  the  most  difficult  obstacles  we 
have  to  contend  with ;  public  credit  is  shaken, 
and  the  banks  trembling.  Where  the  ark  of  our 
safety  is  to  rest,  time  must  unfold.  We  are  all 
well.  I  am.  dear  sir,  affectionately  yours, 

A.    A. 


Quincy,  September  27th,  1814. 

MY  DEAR  CAROLINE  : 

This  morning's  post  brought  me  your  letter  of 
the  20th.  We  were  all  delighted  ;  grandfather's 
tears  watered  his  cheek  when  he  read  the  letter; 


226  LETTERS. 

Susan  skipped  with  all  her  warmth  and  ardour, 
into  every  part  of  the  scene. 

"  In  joyous  youth,  what  soul  hath  never  known, 
Thoughts,  feelings,  taste,  harmonious  to  its  own." 

S.  walked  her  mile  and  a  half  to  communicate 
the  grateful  tidings ;  every  heart  and  eye  parti 
cipated  with  you. 

I  shall  not  say  anything  about  the  wonders  of 
the  world,  for  this  reason,  I  know  not  what  to 
say ;  yet  I  cannot  help  feeling  pity,  or  commis 
eration  for  Buonaparte  ;  to  what  part  of  the  world 
can  he  flee?  Some  say  America!  I  do  not  want 
him  here,  although  I  think  he  would  be  quite 
harmless,  deprived  as  he  is,  of  all  power,  author 
ity,  and  means. 

By  the  help  of  one  night's  refreshing  sleep,  I 
am  enabled  to  write  to  you  this  morning,  know 
ing  not  what  the  morrow  may  bring  forth.  Four 
score  and  ten  is  an  age,  when  we  can  neither  ex 
pect  health,  or  much  strength,  when  our  strength 
is  weakness.  I  cannot  say  that  I  have  no  pleas 
ure  in  my  days  ;  I  have  abundant  in  this,  my  sick 
ness.  I  have  had  kind,  attentive  friends,  a  skil 
ful  physician,  and  every  human  aid  :  is  there  not 
pleasure  in  all  this?  and  unto  the  Great  First 
Cause  be  the  praise. 

Dear,  tempting  child,  how  pleased  I  should  be 
to  make  you  the  visit  you  so  pathetically  urge  ; 
but  would  it  not  be  too  hazardous  for  your  grand 
father,  at  his  age,  to  undertake  ?  True,  we  en- 


LETTERS.  227 

joy  as  much  health,  and  as  good  spirits  as  can  be 
expected,  and  more  than  we  had  reason  to  look 
for,  considering  the  many  scenes  we  have  passed 
through ;  but  we  must  finish  our  course  in  our 
own  habitation,  and  not  venture  beyond  a  day's 
journey.  I  might  be  hazardous  enough  to  run 
the  risk,  but  I  would  not  have  your  grandfather, 
who  yet  may  outlive  me,  though  so  many  years 
older.  So,  dear  girl,  we  thank  you  for  your  in 
vitation,  and  feel  at  our  hearts,  the  value  of  it, 
but  must  content  ourselves  with  the  hope,  if  we 
live,  of  seeing  you  and  yours  the  next  spring. 

I  have  lately  been  reading  Lady  Morgan's 
France  ;  she  is  entertaining,  and  gives  us  many 
pleasant  anecdotes.  I  do  not  like  her  affectation  of 
new  words  ;  the  reviewers  may  properly  attack 
them  —  she  is,  however,  an  interesting  traveller 
to  me,  although  no  favourite  with  the  English. 

To  rise  with  dignity,  and  fall  with  ease,  is  a 
very  desirable  qualification  ;  but  such  is  the  frail 
ty  of  human  nature;  adversity  is  better  calculated 
to  call  forth  the  virtues,  than  prosperity,  which 
puffeth  up,  and  is  unseemly. 

I  have  not  yet  thanked  you  for  your  letter  from 
New-York.  I  entered  into  all  your  feelings  so 
simply  and  pathetically  described,  while  wander 
ing  through  scenes  which  awakened  recollections 
to  "joys  that  were  past,  never  to  return." 

How  much  does  the  heart  pant  for  the  renewal 
of  those  affections,  which  once  so  cordially  greet- 


228  LETTERS. 

ed  an  absent  friend,  when  visiting  the  same  spot ; 
the  unbidden  tear  starts,  and  memory  sighs,  all,  all 
is  changed  —  a  new  set  "  come  tittering  on,  and 
push  us  off  the  stage." 

But  while  this  heart  beats,  and  this  hand  hath 
warmth,  and  reason  retains  its  seat,  my  dear  Car 
oline  will  be  joyfully  received  and  welcomed  by 
her  affectionate  grandmother,  A.  A. 


TO    MRS.    DE    WINDT. 

Quincy,  Oct.  23d,  1814. 

MT   EVER  DEAR   CAROLINE : 

If  you  find  as  many  joyful  faces  to  receive  you, 
as  you  have  left  sorrowful  hearts  behind  you,  you 
will  have  no  reason  to  complain.  When  upon 
former  occasions  you  have  been  separated  from 
me,  it  was  always  with  the  expectation  of  having 
you  again  with  me ;  since  I  have  considered  you 
as  mine,  you  have  been  to  me  one  of  the  chief 
props  and  supports  of  my  declining  years.  By 
your  watchful  attention,  and  cheerful  readiness 
to  prevent  even  my  wants,  you  have  rendered 
yourself  so  necessary  to  me,  as  to  be  the  solace  of 
my  days.  It  is  natural  to  feel  a  privation  in  pro 
portion  to  our  enjoyments;  what  then,  think  you, 
is  the  void  left  in  my  breast  ?  True,  I  have  other 
comforts  in  the  faithful  and  constant  attention  of 
Louisa,  and  the  sprightly  vivacity  of  Susan. 

Your  letter  to  my  venerable  friend,  Mrs.  War 
ren,  was  received  by  me  and  forwarded  to  her. 


LETTERS. 


229 


"  Tell  my  dear  Mrs.  Adams  to  write  to  me,  or  to 
see  me  very  soon,  else  we  only  meet  in  Heaven," 
was  one  of  the  last  expressions  of  your  departed 
friend,  my  ever  to  be  respected  mother.  Thus 
writes  her  son  to  me  upon  the  19th :  "  Upon  the 
18th  the  imprisoned  spirit  ascended  from  the  de 
cayed  and  ancient  fabric.  She  had  but  a  few  days 
of  suffering." 

I  may  with  truth  say,  that  take  her  all  in  all, 
we  shall  not  look  upon  her  like  again.  String 
after  string  is  severed  from  the  heart ;  the  lamp 
of  life  burnt  bright  to  the  last.  Dr.  Freeman  told 
me  she  wrote  him  a  letter  upon  the  6th  of  the 
present  month,  when  she  entered  her  87th  year. 
I  rejoice  that  you  visited  her  ;  your  remembrance 
of  her  will  always  be  pleasant.  Seldom  does  old 
age  wear  so  pleasing,  so  instructive  an  aspect. 
To  me  she  was  a  friend  of  more  than  fifty  sum 
mers  ripening. 

Yesterday  completed  half  a  century  since  I  en 
tered  the  married  state,  then  just  your  age.  I  have 
great  cause  of  thankfulness  that  I  have  lived  so 
long,  and  enjoyed  so  large  a  portion  of  happiness 
as  has  been  my  lot.  The  greatest  source  of  un- 
happiness  I  have  known  in  that  period,  has  arisen 
from  the  long  and  cruel  separations  which  I  was 
called  in  a  time  of  war,  and  with  a  young  family 
around  me,  to  submit  to. 

My  pen  runs  on,  "  but,"  as  the  gallant  Adam 
20 


230  LETTERS. 

said  to  Eve,  "with  thee  conversing  I  forget  all 
time." 

That  you  and  the  rest  of  my  posterity  may  en 
joy  as  large  a  share  of  felicity  as  has  fallen  to  me, 
is  the  sincere  wish  and  prayer  of  your  affection 
ate  grandmother,  A.  A. 

TO   MRS.  DE   WINDT. 

Quincy,  Feb.  19th,  1815. 

Bad  as  my  eyes  are,  I  cannot  refrain  from  wri 
ting  a  few  lines  to  dear  Caroline,  and  thanking 
her  for  her  last  welcome  letter,  and  congratula 
ting  her  upon  the  restoration  of  peace  to  our  be 
loved  country,  an  event,  although  earnestly  de 
sired,  unexpected  as  to  the  time. 

May  we  receive  it  as  a  moral  and  religious 
people,  and  ascribe  praise  to  that  Being  who  ru- 
leth  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  earth,  who  ma- 
keth  our  enemies  to  be  at  peace  with  us,  and  who 
hath  recently  given  such  success  to  our  arms,  as 
is  wondrous  in  our  eyes.  History  does  not  fur 
nish  a  parallel  to  the  victory  at  New-Orleans  ;  I 
mean  as  it  respects  the  difference  of  numbers 
slain.  If  it  were  not  from  the  mouth  of  many 
witnesses  I  should  have  discredited  it,  until  it  was 
sanctioned  by  the  official  letter  of  General  Jack 
son. 

The  loss  of  our  frigate  the  President,  I  lament 
as  a  sacrifice  of  lives,  but  not  of  national  honour. 
To  surrender  to  such  a  superior  force,  after  en- 


LETTERS.  231 

gaging  and  silencing  a  frigate  of  equal  force,  and 
three  to  one,  withers  no  laurels  on  the  brow  of 
Decatur.  Not  a  single  ship-of-war  belonging  to 
us,  but  has  gathered  fame  and  renown  for  our 
country.  Our  armies  too  were  becoming  formi 
dable  ;  our  forces  for  the  last  eighteen  months 
have  restored  the  honour,  and  retrieved  the  repu 
tation  so  much  injured  at  the  commencement  of 
the  war ;  and  the  late  glorious  victory  at  New- 
Orleans,  closes  the  war  with  a  lustre  upon  the 
American  arms  which  time  will  not  efface. 

And  what  with  her  thousand  ships,  and  tens  of 
thousand  troops,  has  Great  Britain  to  boast  of? 
Will  the  destruction,  not  of  the  city,  but  of  the 
public  buildings  of  an  infant  city,  unfortified,  and 
almost  unarmed,  emblazon  her  prowess,  or  trans 
mit  her  valour  to  posterity  ?  No  !  elated  as  was 
the  Prince  Regent,  exulting  in  his  shame,  he  gave 
orders  to  have  the  mighty  deed  translated  into  all 
the  foreign  languages  of  Europe,  and  sent  to  their 
different  courts,  and  how  was  it  received?  With 
disgust,  with  abhorrence  !  so  that  when  their  am 
bassador  in  France,  Lord  Wellington,  made  a 
grand  fete,  and  gave  a  ball  in  celebration  of  the 
event,  not  a  single  foreign  minister  accepted  the 
invitation. 

That  the  successful  invasion  of  that  city  will 
be  an  indelible  stain  upon  the  administration,  I 
must  admit ;  but  still  the  Gothic  barbarism  of  the 
British  administration,  which  could  direct  and 


232  LETTERS. 

sanction  such  a  deed,  will  go  down  to  future  ages 
with  shame  and  disgrace. 

I  think  you  are  right  to  take  every  opportunity 
of  seeing  and  becoming  acquainted  with  your  own 
country.  Although  we  are  yet  in  the  infancy  of 
improvement,  as  it  respects  the  fine  arts,  when 
compared  with  ancient  countries ;  yet  there  is 
not  one  which  history  presents,  where  religion 
and  government  are  so  happily  combined  to  pro 
mote  the  happiness  and  prosperity  of  the  people, 
where  liberty  and  independence  were  so  well  un 
derstood,  and  amply  enjoyed.  We  all  send  an 
abundance  of  love  to  you,  and  yours.  From  your 
affectionate,  A.  A. 

TO   MRS.    DE   WINDT. 

Boston,  June  5th,  1816. 

After  a  year's  absence  I  came  yesterday  to  make 
a  visit  to  my  friends  for  three  days.  Our  anxiety 
to  hear  from  you,  led  me  to  send  to  the  office  this 
morning  for  letters;  there  I  found  yours  of  May 
3 1st,  containing  tidings  that  my  fears  had  antici 
pated,  as  you  will  find  when  you  receive  my  last 
letter. 

My  dear  child,  you  will  be  again  called  to  se 
vere  and  afflictive  scenes  ;  may  you  be  prepared, 
sustained,  and  supported  through  them,  by  that 
Almighty  Power,  which  calls  you  to  the  trial ;  I 
feel  the  stroke  as  a  renewal  of  what  I  have  passed 
through,  and  as  an  anticipation  of  what  I  may  be 


LETTERS. 


233 


called  to  endure,  yet  a  little  while,  and  I  also  shall 
join  the  great  congregation. 

If  your  father  should  survive  for  you  to  see 
him,  and  receive  this  letter  from  me,  before  he 
departs,  give  my  kindest  love  to  him,  and  say  to 
him,  [  hope  to  meet  him  and  my  dear  daughter,  in 
the  world  to  which  we  are  hastening.  I  can  add 
no  more,  my  heart  is  full  ;  ever  your  affectionate 
grandmother,  A.  A. 

TO    MRS.   DE   WINDT. 

Quincy,  June  21st,  1816. 

It  was  with  a  heavy  heart  and  trembling  hand, 
that  I  yesterday  broke  the  seal  of  your  letter  to 
your  uncle.  1  knew  that  he  was  gone  to  Boston, 
and  as  I  had  not  any  letter  myself,  I  could  not 
wait  in  such  suspense  ;  the  contents  of  the  letter 
has  left  me  little  expectation  of  hearing  that  the 
lamp  of  life  is  not  nearly  extinguished. 

I  had  written  thus  far,  when  Louisa  brought 
me  the  paper,  with  the  notice  of  your  dear  father's 
departure  on  the  10th. 

Have  I  lived  to  this  day,  to  mourn  with  my 
dear  child  the  loss  of  both  parents  ?  little  did  I 
think  the  last  winter,  that  I  should  have  been  the 
survivor  ;  I  weep  with  you,  and  pray  you  may 
be  supported  by  that  Almighty  Power,  who  has 
called  you  to  this  trial. 

I  have  not  expected  you  to  write  to  me,  dis 
tressed  as  you  must  have  been.  How  much  we 
20* 


234  LETTERS. 

have  all  wished  we  could  have  been  near  you,  to 
have  alleviated  some  of  your  sorrows,  by  sharing 
them  with  you.  Thus  my  dear  children,  you 
have  all  honoured  your  father  and  your  mother  ; 
may  you  all  inherit  that  blessing  which  is  prom 
ised  to  those  who  keep  that  commandment.  Mer 
cies  are  mingled  in  your  cup.  My  heart  is  too 
full  to  write.  I  am,  dear  child,  your  affectionate 
grandmother,  A.  A. 

Quincy,  January  29th,  1818. 

MY  DEAR  CAROLINE  : 

As  Dean  Swift  says,  "  eyes  with  writing  almost 
blind,"  I  commence  a  letter  to  you,  near  ten 
o'clock  at  night,  after  having  written  seven  letters 
to  go  abroad  by  the  Milo. 

I  have  been  wishing  to  write  to  you  all  the 
week,  but  last  Friday,  in  a  snow  storm,  who 
should  corne  to  make  me  a  visit,  but  Mrs.  Gushing, 
who  is  always  a  welcome  guest ;  she  stayed  until 
Tuesday ;  I  could  not  leave  her  to  write. 

We  find  so  little  here  to  interest  us  beyond  our 
domestic  concerns,  that  few  subjects  arise  to  ruffle 
the  calm,  which  so  tranquilly  surrounds  us. 

The  only  one  which  creates  a  public  sensation, 
is  the  battle  of  Bunker  Hill,  as  lately  published  by 
General  Dearborn,  in  which  he  has  attacked  the 
military  character  of  General  Putnam.  This  has 
roused  the  indignation  of  the  son  of  the  General, 
and  he  replies  with  no  small  share  of  severity,  ai 


LETTERS.  235 

the  same  time  with  a  filial  respect,  love,  and  ven 
eration,  which  cannot  fail  to  interest  every  reader. 
He  has  written  a  letter  to  your  grandfather,  as  to 
one  of  the  oldest  survivors  of  the  revolution,  res 
pectfully  requesting  him  to  inform  him,  if  he  had 
known,  or  ever  heard,  in  Congress,  or  out  of  it, 
any  dissatisfaction  with  the  conduct  of  General 
Putnam,  upon  the  memorable  17th  of  June,  1775  ? 
He  wishes  for  the  information,  whether  it  may 
tend  either  to  honour  or  dishonour. 

"  I  desire  no  favour  or  concealment,  for  how 
ever  alive  1  may  feel  to  a  sense  of  injury,  prompted 
by  envy  and  selfishness  ;  truth,  from  a  source  so 
respectable  and  impartial  as  that  of  President 
Adams,  will  be  always  held  in  the  same  reverence 
and  treated  with  the  same  respect,  whether  it  bears 
the  marks  of  censure  or  condemnation." 

"  His  honest  fame  is  the  most  precious  inheri 
tance  he  left  his  family  ;  and  having  been  his  con 
stant  attendant  from  the  commencement  of  the 
revolution  to  the  last  moment  of  his  life,  I  will 
defend  it,  if  need  be,  at  the  expense  of  every  other 
earthly  hope." 

Such  a  high  sense  of  filial  affection  and  duty, 
with  such  honourable  feelings,  so  pathetically  ex 
pressed,  drew  tears  from  my  eyes  when  I  read  the 
letter,  to  which  I  can  by  no  means  do  justice  with 
out  the  whole. 

Mr.  Holly  is  going  to  Washington,  and  from 
thence  to  Kentucky,  where  he  is  invited  to  be 


236  LETTERS. 

President  of  a  College.  He  prefers  to  go  and  see 
the  country  and  the  people,  before  he  gives  an 
answer ;  to  this  purpose,  he  has  obtained  leave  of 
absence  for  three  months,  and  proposes  to  visit  the 
great  and  the  gay  scenes  at  Washington,  to  visit  Mr. 
Madison  and  Mr.  Jefferson.  Last  Monday,  he  and 
Mrs.  H.  came  and  passed  the  day  with  us.  He  is  a 
very  pleasant  companion  ;  one  need  be  only  a 
hearer ;  he  has  a  mind  vivid,  active,  inquisitive, 
ardent,  comprehensive  ;  shall  I  say  profound  ?  He 
is  only  35  years  of  age  ;  can  a  man  be  profound  at 
that  age  ?  He  says  he  will  not  print  even  a  ser 
mon  until  after  40.  He  certainly  belongs  to  the 
family  of  the  Searches ;  he  is  very  eloquent,  a 
fine  person,  as  you  know. 

And  now  dear  Caroline,  if  1  could  have  flour 
ished  over  my  paper  as  you  do,  I  should  have  cov 
ered  three  sides,  but  I  had  rather  have  a  little  than 
none  at  all.  Let  me  hear  from  you,  it  lessens  the 
distance  that  separates  us.  Adieu,  dear  girl  ;  kiss 
the  babes  for  me,  and  believe  me  in  cold  weather 
and  warm,  in  all  seasons  and  times,  your  affec 
tionate  grandmother,  A.  A. 

Quincy,  March  22d,  1818. 

MY  DEAR   CAROLINE  : 

"  Delightful  praise,  like  summer  rose, 
That  brighter  in  the  dew-drop  glows." 

They  were  sweet  drops  which  flowed  from  the 
heart  to  the  eyes  both  of  your  grandfather  and 
grandmother,  when  I  read  to  him  the  two  letters 


LETTERS.  237 

you  had  transcribed  to  your  uncle  and  to  your 
father,  in  commendation  of  your  brother.  You 
could  not  have  offered  a  sweeter  incense  to  your 
grandfather  ;  and  flowing  from  the  pen  of  an  old 
friend  of  your  father's,  it  carried  the  marks  of  sin 
cerity,  without  the  alloy  of  adulation,  and  merits 
a  grateful  return.  "  A  good  name  is  better  than 
precious  ointment ;  it  is  the  immediate  jewel  of 
the  soul." 

The  freshet  which  carried  away  the  bridges, 
and  made  such  havoc  with  the  roads,  together 
with  the  robbery  of  the  mail,  has  prevented  our 
regular  communication,  and  1  suspect  I  have  lost 
a  journal  ;  I  enclose  you  the  only  one  you  have 
not  seen. 

I  hear  that  Duane  has  got  hold  of  my  letter  to 
Niles,  and  spits  forth  vulgar  abuse  at  me  and  the 
Secretary  of  State,  who  had  not  any  more  to  do 
with  the  subject  than  the  Emperor  of  China.  He 
has  revealed  who  the  person  was,  who  sent  the 
ungentlemanly  refusal  to  dine ;  how  he  knew,  I 
cannot  divine  — he  abuses  him  also  ;  but  the  low 
sarcasms  of  these  people  affect  me  no  more  at  this 
day  than  the  idle  wind. 

I  have  not  seen,  only  heard  of  the  laudable  ef 
forts  of  those  foreigners,  who  will  foment  a  party 
spirit  if  they  can.  They  wish  to  engage  us  in  a 
war  with  Spain ;  and  finding  our  growth  rapid, 
and  our  national  strength  increasing  in  propor 
tion,  more  than  one  European  power  would  re- 


238  LETTERS. 

joice  to  find  us  embroiled  with  any  power  which 
could  retard  our  progress  ;  they  know  the  admin 
istration  is  averse  to  war,  they  think  to  abuse  it 
with  impunity. 

I  was  much  gratified  to  see  the  overpowering 
vote  of  the  house  to  reject  the  Spanish  petition  ; 
an  unprecedented  attempt  in  any  country,  to  ap 
peal  from  the  sovereign  to  the  Parliament.  Ge 
net  appealed  to  the  people  at  large,  which  he  found 
abortive. 

The  Boston  subscription  for  the  bust  soon  filled, 
although  no  person  was  allowed  to  subscribe  more 
than  two  dollars;  a  very  respectable  committee 
was  sent,  with  a  short  and  handsome  address  upon 
the  occasion,  and  on  Thursday  the  artist  came. 
He  takes  the  bust  first  in  clay  ;  he  has  been  a  part 
of  three  days  engaged  upon  it ;  he  does  not  re 
quire  any  formal  sitting ;  he  works  with  much 
ease  ;  his  name  Binon.  a  Frenchman  by  birth, 
with  all  the  vivacity  of  his  nation  ;  quite  a  gen 
tleman,  and  well  acquainted  with  books;  he  has 
passed  twelve  years  in  Italy  ;  he  will  have  an  ad 
mirable  likeness. 

I  have  never  before  heard  of  Cox's  Female  Bi 
ography  ;  I  should  like  to  read  it.  Many  of  the 
female  characters  in  Scripture,  both  of  the  Old  and 
New  Testament,  do  great  honour  to  the  sex.  It 
is  a  pleasing  and  grateful  circumstance,  to  read 
in  the  life  and  character  of  our  Saviour,  the  af 
fection  and  tenderness  which  he  manifests  to  wo- 


LETTERS.  239 

men  —  to  Mary,  to  Martha,  to  the  widow  of  Sa 
maria,  and  many  others. 

It  grows  too  dark  to  see  or  write  ;  so  with  love 
to  you  and  yours,  I  am  your  affectionate 

A.  A. 

TO  MRS.  DE  WINDT. 

Montezillo,  Jan.  1,  1820. 

MY    DEAR   CAROLINE  : 

I  wish  you  a  happy  New-year,  and  as  many  new 
years  as  your  nature  can  bear,  in  health,  peace, 
and  competence,  with  your  children  like  olive- 
plants  about  your  table. 

But  be  sure  to  make  them  all,  male  and  female, 
children,  grandchildren,  and  great  grandchildren, 
work  hard  with  their  own  hands,  so  as  to  be  able 
to  command  their  own  livelihood,  by  their  indus 
try,  economy,  and  sagacity. 

I  am  very  glad  to  find  that  you  are  in  corres 
pondence  with  my  friend  Vanderkemp.  This 
correspondence  will  amuse  you,  and  if  you  are 
not  very  learned,  will  instruct  you.  But  even  he 
does  not  know  every  thing  ;  he  was  ignorant  un 
til  a  few  days  ago,  that  inoculation  for  the  small 
pox  was  first  introduced  into  the  British  empire 
in  the  town  of  Boston.  By  this  time  he  knows 
that  Dr.  Zabaliel  Boyleston,  a  younger  brother  of 
my  grandfather,  Peter  Boyleston  of  Brookline,  in 
oculated  his  own  children  in  1720,  one  hundred 
years  ago,  and  after  that  inoculated  his  negroes 


240  LETTERS. 

at  their  express  desire,  and  carried  his  own  family 
safe  through  the  distemper.  His  success  in  his 
own  house,  encouraged  others  in  his  neighbour 
hood  to  run  the  risk.  He  inoculated  all  who 
would  submit  to  the  operation.  The  fame  of  his 
success  in  the  town  of  Boston  spread  to  England, 
and  produced  an  invitation  to  him  to  embark  for 
that  country,  to  inoculate  the  royal  family.  He 
did  embark,  but  before  he  arrived,  the  royal  child 
ren  had  acquired  courage  enough  to  trust  their 
own  surgeons. 

Our  collegians  are  gone  to  Washington  ;  they 
must  necessarily  spend  a  winter  of  dissipation  — 
but  they  are  all  so  smitten  with  the  charms  of  lit 
erature,  that  I  hope   they  will  continue  faithful 
and  true. 

We  are  all  in  good  health  here,  eighteen  in 
number.  I  am,  as  ever,  your  affectionate  grand 
father,  JOHN  ADAMS. 

P.  S.  Since  I  have  written  the  above,  I  have 
picked  up  a  good  story. 

Of  two  noblemen  in  the  neighbouring  countries, 
one  had  a  son,  the  other  a  daughter  ;  the  son  fell 
in  love  with  the  daughter,  and  solicited  her  fath- 
ers's  consent,  that  he  should  pay  his  addresses  to 
her.  Her  father  asked  him  "  how  will  you  main 
tain  her?"  He  answered  "according  to  her  rank." 
"Rank!  what  rank  have  you,  or  has  she?"  He 
answered  "  the  rank  of  her  father."  "  What  have 


LETTERS.  241 

children  to  do  with  the  rank,  or  fortunes  of  their 
parents  ?  rank  and  fortune  in  reversion  are  nei 
ther  rank  or  fortune.  Have  you  any  profession, 
occupation,  trade,  office,  or  employment,  by  which 
you  can  get  your  own  living?"  "  No,  my  lord, 
I  have  none."  "  Then  you  shall  never  have  my 
daughter ;  I  will  never  give  my  daughter  to  any 
one  who  cannot  maintain  himself  and  her  too." 
u  Very  well,  my  lord,  have  patience  with  me  ;  I 
will  endeavour  to  show  your  lordship  that  I  can 
maintain  myself  and  your  daughter." 

A  basket  maker  in  the  neighbourhood  was  ma 
king  great  profits  by  the  manufacture  of  curious 
baskets,  which  he  sold  for  their  elegance  and 
taste,  for  a  very  great  price.  To  this  man  the 
young  lord  went,  and  gave  him  sufficient  reward 
to  teach  him  the  art ;  in  which  he  made  so  great 
a  proficiency,  that  in  one  year,  he  became  a  more 
exquisite  workman  than  his  master  or  his  appren 
tices.  He  immediately  carried  some  of  his  own 
handy-work  to  the  old  nobleman.  "  Here,  my 
lord,  I  am  now  an  independent  man  ;  with  these 
productions,  with  my  own  hands,  I  can  maintain 
myself  and  your  daughter  in  a  manner  that  will 
make  us  both  perfectly  happy,  without  any  aid 
from  either  of  our  parents."  "  Then  if  you  have, 
or  can  obtain  her  affections,  she  shall  be  yours." 

JOHN  ADAMS. 


21 


242  LETTERS. 


TO  MRS.    DE   WINDT. 

Montezillo,  January  24th,  1820. 

MY  DEAR  GRANDAUGHTER  I 

This  year  completes  a  century  since  my  Un 
cle  Boylston  introduced  the  practic  of  inoculation 
into  the  English  dominions  ;  but  what  improve 
ments  have  been  made,  since  1720,  partly  by  ex 
perience,  but  much  more  by  the  discovery  of  Dr. 
Jenner  ?  The  history  of  this  distemper  is  enough 
to  humble  human  pride !  enough  to  demonstrate 
what  ignorant  puppets  we  are  !  how  we  grope  in 
the  dark !  and  what  empty  phantoms  we  pursue  ! 

You  are  not  singular  in  your  suspicions  that 
you  know  but  little.  The  longer  I  live,  the  more 
I  read,  the  more  patiently  I  think;  and  the  more 
anxiously  I  inquire,  the  less  I  seem  to  know. 

Why  should  the  "  Vaccine  "  have  been  conceal 
ed  from  all  eternity,  and  then  instantaneously  re 
vealed  ?  Why  should  the  material  world  have 
slept  in  nonentity  from  eternity,  and  then  created 
or  awakened  into  existence  ? 

Worm  !  ask  no  such  questions  !  do  justly,  love 
mercy,  walk  humbly.  This  is  enough  for  you  to 
know,  and  to  do.  The  world  is  a  better  one  than 
you  deserve ;  strive  to  make  yourself  more  wor 
thy  of  it. 

So  questions,  and  so  answers  your  affectionate 
grandfather, 

JOHN  ADAMS. 


LETTERS.  243 

TO  MRS.   DE   WINDT. 

Oldenbarneveld,  February  25th,  1820. 

MY  DEAR  AND  RESPECTED  MADAM  ! 

I  mast  acknowledge  that  some  time  ago,  I  fos 
tered  the  expectation  of  being  gratified  with  a  few 
lines  from  your  hand,  and  although  I  was  disap 
pointed,  yet  could  not  persuade  myself  that  I  was 
forgotten. 

Your  cousin's  supposed  departure,  the  concerns 
of  a  numerous  family.  Is  it  not  strange  that  J 
was  not  struck  with  the  possibility  of  sickness  and 
trouble,  which  might  have  prevented  it,  or  should 
these  confine  themselves  to  old  age,  while  silent 
ly  they  undermine  the  tottering  frame?  At  least, 
I  did  not  think  upon  it,  and  yet  it  was  the  case, 
and  I  trust  that  fully  recovered,  and  hurried  up  in 
the  capital,  your  frame  shall  be  strengthened  in 
the  spring. 

My  contentment  at  Cedar  Grove,  my  dear  Car 
oline,  was  so  perfect,  my  enjoyments  so  exquisite, 
that  I  do  not  only  recollect  these  often,  but  grati 
fy  myself  in  renewing  these  communications  to 
my  family  and  friends.  I  was  indeed  happy  dur 
ing  those  three  days,  and  was  it  in  my  power,  I 
would  strive  to  renew  it ;  but  at  my  age,  in  my 
situation,  the  prospect  towards  it  is  not  bright,  al 
though  even  this  is  not  a  cause  to  mourn.  We 
ought  rather  to  be  thankful  for  every  share  of  bliss 
with  which  we  are  favoured. 


244  LETTERS. 

You  know  me  too  well,  to  doubt  for  a  single 
moment,  if  a  copy  of  John  Adams's  letter  would 
gratify  me  ;  but  who  is  that  lady  so  accomplished 
as  to  captivate  a  nearly  nonaganarian,  and  place 
him  in  such  an  ecstacy?  But  I  do  not  envy  the 
happiness  of  my  so  highly  respected  and  beloved 
friend ;  his  last  days  are  his  best  days,  and  the 
blessings  of  his  contemporaries,  and  posterity  must 
be  a  delightful  repast  for  his  children  and  grand 
children. 

Remember  me  with  kindness  to  Mr.  de  Windt; 
this  shall  strengthen  the  impression,  if  any  good 
one  was  made  in  rny  favour,  by  my  visit,  and 
obliterate  the  less  favourable.  Mr.  Lawsori's  cour 
tesy  cannot  be  forgotten  by  me,  which  received  a 
higher  value,  from  his  modesty  and  frankness. 
He  is  the  third  British  soldier  with  whom  I  be 
came  acquainted,  and  how  should  I  be  pleased 
might  I  see  the  trio  under  my  humble  roof. 
Should  Lawson  dare  try  the  adventure  he  will  be 
cordially  received  by  an  old  brother  soldier. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Caroline,  that  the  remem 
brance  of  Mrs.  Adams's  virtues  and  accomplish 
ments,  must  be  first  erased  from  my  heart,  before 
seeing  you  pressing  her  steps,  I  can  ever  cease 
to  be,  dear  and  respected  madam,  your  affectionate 

and  obliged  friend, 

FRANCIS  ADRIAN  VANDERKEMP. 


LETTERS.  245 

TO   MRS.  DE  WINDT. 

Montezillo,  July  12th,  1820. 

MT  DEAR  CAROLINE  ! 

You  have  Harriet  with  you,  and  consequently 
we  are  deprived  of  the  weekly  information  she 
used  to  give  us  of  your  health  and  welfare  ;  but 
now  we  very  rarely  get  any,  either  from  yourself 
or  her  ;  pray  write  to  me  now  and  then  at  least, 
to  let  me  know  that  you,  and  Mr.  de  Windt,  and 
the  little  prattlers,  are  all  well ;  by  no  means  for 
getting  ths  venerable  mother. 

I  was  not  able  to  accept  the  condescending  in 
vitation  of  the  government  of  the  state,  and  the 
various  societies  in  Boston,  to  celebrate  the  4th  of 
July  ;  though  my  head  would  have  struck  the 
stars,  if  I  could  have  made  so  glorious  a  figure, 
as  my  ancient,  excellent  friend  Carroll,  made  at 
Baltimore  on  that  day.  But  the  heat  of  the  season, 
with  the  pomps  and  ceremonies,  could  not  have 
been  supported  with  my  feeble  frame. 

I  should  have  been  delighted  to  have  heard 
my  friend  Mr.  Lyman,  who,  I  am  informed,  pro 
nounced  an  elegant  and  masterly  oration.  Pray 
tell  Miss  Welsh,  that  this  same  friend  of  ours,  Mr. 
Lyman,  has  sent  me  a  rich  and  costly  entertain 
ment,  which  I  am  constantly  devouring  with  as 
keen  an  appetite  and  relish,  as  I  ever  felt  in  my 
youthful  or  riper  days.  The  life  of  the  Earl  of 
Chatham,  in  three  volumes  ;  Hude's  Journey  over 
land  from  Hindostan  to  England  :  Chalmer's  Life 
21* 


246 


LETTERS. 


of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots,  in  two  volumes  ;  many 
of  Scott's  novels.  And  in  general  I  think  this 
writer  has  well  merited  his  knighthood,  and  a 
much  higher  order  of  nobility  ;  for  his  writings 
have  a  tendency  to  inform  and  reform  mankind, 
for  no  man  can  read  them,  without  disgust  at  the 
horrid  crimes,  miseries,  and  violences,  arising 
from  the  superstition,  fanaticism,  and  hypocrisy, 
which  have  prevailed  so  scandalously  in  all  the 
ages  of  which  he  writes.  I  have  reserved  for  the 
last  the  life  of  Lady  Russell.  This  I  have  not 
yet  read,  because  I  read  it  more  than  forty  years 
ago.  On  this  hangs  a  tale  which  you  ought  to 
know  and  communicate  to  your  children.  I 
bought  the  life  and  letters  of  Lady  Russell,  in  the 
year  1775,  an.d  sent  it  to  your  grandmother,  with 
an  express  intent  and  desire,  that  she  should  con 
sider  it  a  mirror  in  which  to  contemplate  herself; 
for  at  that  time  I  thought  it  extremely  probable, 
from  the  daring  and  dangerous  career  I  was  deter 
mined  to  run,  that  she  would  one  day  find  herself 
in  the  situation  of  Lady  Russell,  her  husband 
without  a  head.  This  Lady  was  more  beautiful 
than  Lady  Russell,  had  a  brighter  genius,  more 
information,  a  more  refined  taste,  and  at  least  her 
equal  in  the  virtues  of  the  heart ;  equal  fortitude 
and  firmness  of  character,  equal  resignation  to  the 
will  of  Heaven,  equal  in  all  the  virtues  and  graces 
of  the  Christian  life.  Like  Lady  Russell,  she  never 
by  word  or  look  discouraged  me  from  running  all 


LETTERS.  247 

hazards  for  the  salvation  of  my  country's  liberties; 
she  was  willing  to  share  with  me,  and  that  her 
children  should  share  with  us  both,  in  all  the  dan 
gerous  consequences  we  had  to  hazard.  My  love 
to  Mr.  de  Windt  and  to  the  dear  little  ones.  My 
affectionate  respects  to  the  lady  mother ;  love  to 
Harriet.  Your  affectionate  grandfather, 

JOHN  ADAMS. 


THE   END. 


ERRA.TA..  —  Page  33,  20th  line  from  top,  for  Molire'e,  read  Molicre.     Page 
202,  18th  line,  insert  am.     Page  203,  20th  line,  for  Thaler,  read  Thaxter. 


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